Delirious
by MCmondo
Summary: The NCIS team is thrown into turmoil by an unknown terrorist threat. As their heads are played with, can Tony and Ziva resolve their new-found relationship issues? Case-fic with a heavy T/Z theme
1. Chapter 1

**This is a kind of multi chapter case file I've decided to try and write. It's set in a season 11 world where Ziva was still at NCIS. The plot is a bit...out there and it may contain some cliches, but it's my first attempt at a story of any real length so hopefully you can cut me some slack. I was gonna try to complete it so I could post it all at once, but decided I might lose motivation that way. So I've posted the first chapter in the (probably optimistic) hope that you guys will show interest in the plot. If it's just a load of rubbish, please don't hold back on the criticism. There's no point in me finishing a story no one's enjoying. Hope you are entertained.**

* * *

Monday did not always represent the start of the working week for Team Gibbs. In fact, the hard working, coffee fueled agents often found themselves in a seemingly endless loop of consecutive working days without a break. Sometimes they even needed a reminder, from people with ordinary lives, what day it actually was as their minds got as disjointed as their sleeping patterns. Their boss never had that problem, of course. Gibbs would probably be confused after a _full_ night's sleep but never had an issue with his usually non-existent ones. The man was simply a machine. This particular Monday was a rare and precious occasion then, because the NCIS family actually spent the entire preceding weekend off. They weren't once interrupted by the call of duty.

Although, ironically, Tony DiNozzo suspected that a certain McGamer had spent the entire weekend playing a video game similar to 'Call of Duty'. The tech whizz seemed to still find the activity appealing, even at his ever increasing age. The virtual world enthusiast was nowhere to be seen as Tony made his way past his fresh faced Israeli-American partner and slumped into his chair with a typically exaggerated groan. God, this was not a good way to start the week. He might not get the chance to catch up on his sleep any time soon, either. Not as a member of the MCRT. Lord only knew what lay ahead.

Ziva didn't fail to notice the apparent suffering of the senior field agent, or the fact that he hadn't said a single word of greeting since arriving. She always figured he would never get used to being up at 7am, no matter how much practice he got at doing it.

''You seem tired, Tony.'' She stated, without even glancing at the exhausted agent in question.

As she kept her attention on her computer monitor, she just about heard a grunt of confirmation from her partner. Clearly using any _actual_ words was beyond his ability. His already closed eyes were a physical indication of just how tired he really was. She only ever saw him in this particular state when he'd experienced a night of heavy drinking the day before. That usually involved hitting the town with his friends. She knew he rarely did that these days, and never on a Sunday night. As far as she was aware, he had brought a stop to the self-flagellant alcohol poisoning he brought upon himself after a certain trip to LA many years ago, so that couldn't be behind his obvious struggle. She examined him more closely for the first time that morning. There were no signs of pain marring his features, so it was not a hangover.

''Late night?'' She asked innocently. The curly haired minx may have failed to hide the concern lacing her tone, however.

Tony opened his eyes and found himself looking into the deep, brown ones of his gorgeous partner. Holding her gaze always made it hard to lie convincingly. He decided it wasn't worth the effort of even trying to make up a less mysterious reason as to why he was so sleep deprived that morning. The real reason was _so_ frustratingly unknown to him, in fact, that he wasn't sure how to put it into words. His trail of thoughts ended, though, as he starkly realized he'd been staring into Ziva's enchanting orbs for longer than appropriate without actually speaking.

''No.'' He eventually answered with a heavy sigh. ''Just a long one.'' His following yawn reinforced the deliberately vague explanation he'd offered.

What on earth did he mean by that? Ziva assumed, by his lack of a proud smile, that he wasn't referring to a sexual conquest. Or perhaps she just hoped he wasn't. She didn't have time to inquire further, though, before Tony voiced a question of his own.

''Where's McGeek?'' He asked, before closing his eyes once again as he leaned back and used his hands to support the weight of his head. ''I never get in before him. He sick or something?''

Ziva's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. ''How would I know?'' She answered as if he was being completely absurd.

''I thought you magically teleported here as soon as the sun rises. Do you not pick up on these things?'' He shot back. Apparently his exhaustion hadn't suppressed his usual wit.

''I do not know everything that is going on just because I arrive to work first, Tony.'' She explained as if he was a petulant toddler.

That earned her another grunt. Clearly he was unwilling to argue with her any further on the subject. Now she was really starting to worry. Tony _always_ argued back. Even if he was aware he was losing a debate, he would stretch it out over a potentially infinite amount of time. He wasn't just sleep deprived, he was rattled. Whatever had kept him up all night had clearly got under his skin. This was most unusual. It appeared Ziva's first case of the week had just been opened: The case of _what the hell was wrong with Tony?_

Her contemplative thinking had her in such a daze, that she failed to notice McGee enter the room and drop into his own chair with an uncharacteristic lack of grace. When she eventually looked him, and noticed his droopy eyes and gaping mouth, she couldn't help but see a similarity between his appearance and Tony's. In fact, he hadn't greeted anyone either. He was always the polite one of the group. Now Ziva's curiosity levels had truly risen to dizzy heights. This case was _really_ developing.

''McGee?'' She said, catching his attention. ''Do not tell me I am the only one who rested during our weekend off. You look awful.'' She glanced back at Tony. '' _Both_ of you do.''

McGee had his head in his hands by the end of her statement. His grunt arrived in unison with another one from DiNozzo. Ziva jumped to the conclusion that he was no more inclined to react vocally than his male colleague was. There was no such thing as a coincidence, or at least that was what their boss had drilled them into believing over the years, so there must have been a connection. This problem both her teammates apparently shared must have meant she missed out on something _very_ time consuming over their little break.

''Okay,'' She began in a stern tone. ''One of you will tell me what happened last night or I will start throwing things. Very _sharp_ things.''

This seemed to do the trick for McGee who looked up from is desk with a worried expression. Tony didn't seem too unsettled by her threat, however. He simply let out a long groan suggesting he didn't welcome the intrusion of his partner's voice.

''If one of these sharp things is a syringe filled with a sedative…'' He began, before another yawn interrupted his remark. ''…then fire away, GI Jane.''

Ziva rolled her eyes at the typical manner in which her partner displayed his attitude. She turned back to McGee, hoping she'd have better luck with the younger man. He was also mid-yawn by the time he met the questioning look in her eyes. She knew he was about to cave as soon as he shrugged his shoulders with a resigned look on his face.

''Look…'' He started in a frustrated tone. ''It's kind of hard to explain. I don't know about Tony here, but I didn't catch a wink of sleep last night.''

That information caught Tony's attention. He opened his eyes as his head snapped round to his male companion. ''That's a hell of coinky-dink, McLullaby. I had the same problem.''

''There is no such thing as a coincidence, DiNozzo.'' Their master and chief's voice met their ears as he glided into the bullpen. He was wearing his trademark Gibbs sports jacket and had his favorite caffeine-filled brew in his grasp, but stopped in his tracks after immediately picking up on the fact that the two other men in the room hadn't even moved a muscle since his arrival. He turned to Ziva with his own version of a confused frown.

''What the hell is wrong with these two?'' He asked gruffly, gesturing in their general direction with a flick of his head.

She wished she had an answer for him. ''You know as much as I do, Gibbs.''

Her honest reply was met with a simple 'huh' from the silver haired team leader. He simply turned back to his exhausted agents with an expectant expression ''Whenever you two wanna join us, just let me know.''

His sarcastic remark kicked the two men into action. McGee jumped up with a 'sorry boss' and went to grab his gear, and Tony sat up straight and put on is best _alert face._ ''Dead marine, boss?'' The Italian asked.

''Nope.''

''Dead petty officer?''

''No, DiNozzo.''

''Dead…anybody?''

''Nobody's dead.''

A confused frown slowly spread over Tony's face as his trail of guessing seemed to come to an end. ''Okay, this game's not fun anymore.'' He surrendered. ''Have we got a case of any description, boss?''

The boss in question gave his senior field a steely glare before simply turning away and sitting down behind his desk. At that, Tony's confusion seemed to become even more defined in his expression. Clearly his mind was working at a much slower pace than usual. He and Gibbs usually shared the same wavelength, but on this particular morning the telepathy just didn't seem to exist between the two long-time team mates. Gibbs pointed at the pile of folders on Tony's desk without even looking up, or without further elaboration. The younger agent examined them, and his reaction suggested he hadn't even been aware of their presence until this point.

''Cold case files?'' He asked with a wince.

Gibbs simply hummed in confirmation. McGee sat back down as Tony retrieved the first folder from the alarmingly high stack and flicked through the pages with a look of disgust. Ziva watched his unenthusiastic reaction with a small smile of amusement. He hated digitally converting case files on a _good_ day. There was no way his current state of mind suited such an activity. He must have sensed her enjoyment of his impending suffering, though, because he looked up at her with narrowed eyes and a small frown.

''This what you've been doing all morning?'' He asked with a furrowed brow.

She chuckled before giving her partner the fake reassurance he didn't need. ''Oh yes, and I am having the time of my life.'' Her sarcastic remark brought another wince to his face. ''Do not worry, though. It only takes about half an hour per page. And that's only if your brain has been well rested.''

That news seemed to deflate whatever hopes Tony had of getting through this day with his sanity intact. His hand met his forehead as he face-palmed himself in complete surrender. ''Wonderful.'' He returned in an equally sarcastic tone.

''You got an issue, DiNozzo?'' Gibbs asked, this time he did decide to look up at his oldest agent with a raised eyebrow.

''No, boss.'' The DiNozzo in question replied, with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. ''I can think of nothing more exciting. I'm actually _glad_ you wanted us to-''

''Shut up, Tony.'' McGee's sharp voice interrupted his fellow agent's rambling.

It was only the second time he'd spoken since Gibbs had entered the scene, but it almost sounded as though he was talking in his sleep. His eyes were closed again as he apparently couldn't find the energy to work, even in front of his boss. That didn't seem to bother said boss though, as something had seemingly caught his attention in vicinity of MTAC. Upon seeing her leader's steely gaze being held firmly in place in that direction, Ziva glanced up to see Vance standing with his usual authoritative posture, eyes firmly locked with the icy blues ones of the ex-marine. He stood at the top of the stairs and, after a few moments, he simply turned back towards his office and disappeared. These days, she was aware of the fact that was his way of summoning the team leader to his directorial lair. And sure enough, Gibbs got back to his feet and made his way towards the foot of the stairwell without a single word.

''I don't exactly see you springing into action with your case files, probie.'' Tony eventually reacted to his co-worker's barked order, about a minute after he received it. ''I don't think you're entitled to tell me what to do.''

''I'm just giving the office monkey a head start.'' McGee shot back after another heavy yawn.

''Monkey? That's a mean thing to say about Ziva.''

Ziva actually smirked at the typical DiNozzo quick-thinking, though she was growing increasingly irritated by the petty squabbling between the two grown men.

''Oh please.'' McGee admonished. ''Ziva's actually got some grace. Some appreciation for peace and quiet. Unlike her overgrown baby of a partner.''

Tony's jaw dropped. ''Overgrown baby?'' He repeated in disbelief. ''You're really saying that about a guy who gets more sex in a year than you do in a lifetime?''

''I rest my case.'' The younger agent stated with a raised hand.

That earned a scoff from his senior field agent. ''Maybe you should spend more time resting cases and less time resting those legs, McPudgy.'' He muttered under his breath.

''What?!'' McGee suddenly yelled. His angry look suggested he hadn't quite caught his colleague's comment.

''I said…'' Tony started in a much louder voice. ''Maybe you should spend-''

''Oh would you two please stop it!'' Ziva jumped in. Early morning bickering was not something she was willing to tolerate. ''Just because you are both miserable doesn't mean I have to be. I was actually in a good mood today.''

Her little motherly outburst seemed to have its desired effect. Both her friends visibly calmed as they slumped further back in their chairs with childish frowns. She was actually quite proud of herself. It was a rare occasion when she managed to end one of their juvenile arguments. McGee had always been polite enough to shut his mouth when she asked, but Tony _never_ did. At least, not without the need for physical violence anyway. Now she officially granted herself permission to be concerned. Her partner even started working on his first cold case file. Was this really happening? Who was this person?

''Why _were_ you in such a good mood this morning, Miss David?'' He voiced in a teasing tone. That was more like it. ''Did you have a particularly...pleasant weekend?''

He was even smiling now. She would normally have reflected his teasing straight back to him, but she was actually too relieved that Tony was still treating her like he normally would. If he kept genuinely listening to her demands for silence, she would keep worrying about his mental health. This didn't stop her being aware, however, that he was using his special DiNozzo language to imply that she had spent a 'pleasurable' weekend in the company of a man. This was, of course, not true. She had used their time off to indulge in some much needed rest and relaxation. It _was_ pleasurable, but not in the way he was probably imagining. These days, she actively tried to avoid the whole jealousy theme these conversations often ended up adopting. Especially after what happened a fortnight ago. Therefore honesty was always the best policy in this situation.

''It was nice, yes.'' She replied, addressing the appearance of the question but not the underlying message. ''I got a lot of things done, put my feet up and allowed myself plenty of time to sleep. I am guessing you cannot say the same about yours?'' She asked, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

He tilted his head in consideration as he presumably recollected the events of his weekend. ''Yeah, actually I can.'' He returned, but with no hint of fight in his voice. ''At least for most of it, anyway. The whole sleep thing went kinda AWOL last night, though.'' His recollection brought another frustrated frown to his face.

''I know what you mean.'' McGee spoke up again, this time actually agreeing with other agent. ''I went to bed last night and just couldn't get to sleep. I just kept tossing and turning. My brain just wouldn't switch off. Didn't drift off even once before sunrise.''

Tony furrowed his brow and his eyes went distant after hearing the younger agent's description of the previous evening. Ziva recognized the particular look on his face in that moment. He was either freaked out by something, or genuinely concerned about his co-worker. She guessed, because it was Tony, that any concern he felt would most likely be for himself at this point. Nothing McGee described sounded like a long term issue, so what had DiNozzo so perplexed? She didn't have to wait too long to find out.

''That's weird.'' He started in a completely serious tone. ''I had the exact same experience. Like, you felt really tired but you just _couldn't_ fall asleep? No matter how comfortable you were?''

''Yeah.'' McGee stretched out his answer as he also started to look a bit suspicious of the fact he and his colleague shared the same insomnia-related problem.

Ziva, in truth, was a bit skeptical herself. But she wasn't going to start freaking out Abby-style any time soon. ''Perhaps you are both just lonely.'' She stated with a shrug of the shoulders. ''Maybe you just need someone to comfort you at night.''

This returned the teasing smirk to Tony's face. ''Are you making an offer there, sweetcheeks?'' He asked in a slightly more lifeless tone than she was used to.

Ziva simply rolled her eyes, as he would expect of her, and returned her attention back to her work. She wanted to give the impression that his question was not worthy of being dignified with an answer. The truth was, however, that she couldn't picture herself and Tony sharing a bed without feeling a sad ache in her chest. They had done just that- shared a bed- as they finally gave in to their urges and slept together at her apartment nearly two weeks prior. She wasn't sure what it actually meant, but decided to go with whatever flow Tony wanted to. He hadn't even brought it up since the morning after their rule breaking activities, so she decided not to either. She could just about convince herself to ignore the way her heart squeezed every time she thought about it. Tony must have sensed her almost nervous energy, though, because the next time she chanced a look at him the smile had dropped from his face as he gave her an apologetic wince. Thankfully their long time colleague was either too blissfully ignorant, or just too tired, to pick up on the tension erupting on the other side of the bullpen.

McGee's trepidation about the earlier topic seemed to be continuing. ''I don't know,'' He started in a suitably unsure tone. ''isn't it a bit strange that both of us went through the same thing last night without really having a reason for it?''

It was very strange. But Tony couldn't help but feel like there _was_ a reason behind it. Maybe Ziva was right, maybe he was just lonely. The warmth and touch of his partner was something he yearned for every evening since they'd strayed over the line of professionalism all those nights ago. He may not have consumed much of the Ziva David drug, but he was silently suffering the withdrawal symptoms of it. He knew that one simple, honest conversation could help clear this up, but was terrified of what consequences such a talk might bring. They could either bring happiness or heartbreak. He wasn't sure if he could deal with the latter, and knew the former would take hard work to achieve, so therefore decided to just survive with the hollow feeling he had in his chest on a day to day basis. Or could the hollow feeling already be considered as heartbreak? He wasn't going to think about the answer to that until he'd had some sleep.

 **…**

''You wanted to see me, Leon?''

Gibbs entered the office to see the NCIS director standing by the window, looking out over the Potomac River. The usual poker face was in place, but the ex-marine could just _feel_ the stressful tension in the room. The fact that Vance hadn't even looked at him since his arrival spoke volumes. Eventually the director let out a long sigh before turning around and approaching his desk.

''That terrorist cell you brought down last week.'' He said after a few more silent seconds. This was his way of half-asking if Gibbs could remember the cell in question. Of course he could. They nearly managed to launch a chemical weapons attack on a carrier. That was, of course, before his team stopped them.

''Kinda hard to forget.'' He responded, confirming his recollection of their foes.

''Turns out they were just a spoke on a much larger wheel. I just received this anonymous message a few minutes ago.''

Vance then hit the desk phone located by his computer, and the two men attentively listened to the message in question. The voice that met their ears was not a human one, but instead sounded deep, morphed and almost robotic.

'' _NCIS. We have not had the pleasure of meeting in person, but hopefully that will change soon. Agent Gibbs' team may have temporarily neutralized our operations in DC, but I strongly advise that you do not get comfortable. In fact, we've managed to put together a new formula to help you with that. Have a nice week.''_

The message ended. Gibbs met Vance's gaze as they both calmly dreaded what the unknown threat could have possibly meant by that. He guessed that a 'new formula' meant a new lethal gas, but that was literally the only information provided that they could work with. Other than that, all they knew was that this unfamiliar enemy had identified him and, presumably, the rest of his team. That only ever spelled bad news.

''Trace?'' He asked, without having to explain further.

''Get McGee on it.'' The director ordered, without missing a beat. ''But something tells me this guy's covered his ass in that respect.''

Oh yeah. This guy was clearly not messing around, and clearly knew how to make the most of technology. That much was clear. But if anybody could crack the undoubtedly existent codes, his tech-savvy young special agent could. Before he could express any further opinions, however, Vance's phone started ringing. They were both seemingly thinking the same thing. Gibbs nodded once to confirm that he was on the same wavelength, before the director answered and put it on loud speaker. He had barely had time to say 'Hello', before the same deep voice from the earlier message blared out of the speaker once again.

'' _I assume you have now summoned Agent Gibbs?''_

The two men once again locked eyes, but both refused to lose their cool just yet. ''I'm here.'' Gibbs assured their unknown nemesis. ''What do you want, exactly?''

'' _Many things.''_ It replied after a few silent moments. That ruled out the possibility of this being a recording. _''But all I wanted from you personally, was the chance to test out my new creation on some…unwilling subjects. Thankfully your team fitted that bill.''_

Now his gut was well and truly screaming at him. Threatening _him_ was one thing, but this guy was asking for a quick death if he even laid one finger on any of his team. Vance's quick glance in his direction suggested he was thinking along the same line.

'' _I know what you are thinking, Gibbs. I can assure you that your agents have only been exposed to a very small dose. Their lives are not in danger. I cannot say the same about their sanity.''_

That really started to have Gibbs worried. If he was a normal person he might even have punched the desk by now.

'' _Tell me, have any of your precious colleagues had trouble sleeping recently?''_

He thought back to how DiNozzo and McGee were acting that morning. They both looked exhausted and decidedly confused. Oh crap.

'' _Your silence speaks volumes, as they say. You may find that all three of your agents will become more and more…unhelpful as time progresses. They may find that sleep-deprivation is not the only problem they suffer from. I can't have your little NCIS machine operating in full swing. It might get in our way again.''_

Gibbs had heard enough of this overconfident rambling. ''You think we won't still stop you?'' He asked in the strongest voice he could muster. ''You're stupid enough to call us, you're stupid enough to get caught.''

They thought the long pause on the other end of the line signaled the end of their little verbal contest. But then one last, chilling sentence met their ears.

'' _You underestimate me.''_

And with that, the line went dead. The tension in the room was alive and flourishing, however. Gibbs aimed one steely look at his director before they both swung round and headed for the door. They started marching towards the bullpen with authoritative purpose.

 **…**

''Anyone remember where Gibbs went?''

Tony's voice broke the comfortable silence in the bullpen. He'd secretly been trying to remember the departure of his boss and which direction he went in, but couldn't seem to. In fact his short term memory seemed to be all over the place. There was at least three occasions where he'd read an entire page on his cold case file, only to discover that he hadn't actually taken any information in. He blamed the lack of sleep as a likely reason for his mental dysfunction, but couldn't shake off the feeling of being somewhat lost. It was as if any sense of professional purpose had abandoned him.

''Gibbs left?'' McGee asked with a confused expression. ''Wait, was Gibbs even _here_?''

Tony considered the probie's question for a few seconds. He realized he didn't actually have a confident answer to provide his colleague with. Come to think of it, was he imagining Gibbs' presence earlier? That would explain how little he remembered about any previous interaction with his boss that morning. Although, besides the odd head slap or barked order, Gibbs barely ever interacted with any of them at all.

''Have you two bumped your heads?'' Ziva's familiar voice interrupted the ever wondering DiNozzo mind. ''He literally went upstairs to see the director five minutes ago.''

He had? Tony must've missed that.

''DiNozzo, David, McGee with me!''

Speak of the devil, the bossman swept back into view with a new sense of urgency. Vance was with him, so he must have given them a new case. It must have been an important one as well, because they both seemed a little pissed off. Tony was pretty sure he wasn't to blame for this apparent anger. At least, he couldn't remember being behind it anyway. What the hell was wrong with his brain?

Ziva was the first to stand up in response to their boss' order. ''Have we got a case _now_ , Gibbs?'' She asked in a hopeful tone. Clearly she was bored of her previous task.

''Yeah.'' He confirmed in his usual no-nonsense manner. ''But we're not working it until all three of you pee in a cup.''

This news brought a half frightened, half confused look to the Israeli's pretty face. Clearly further elaboration was needed, but their boss never offered any. Luckily for all the confused agents, Vance was on hand to provide the missing information.

''That cell you busted last week was a lot bigger than we thought.'' The director told them in a typically calm tone. ''The guy running it claims to be using you three as his human guinea pigs for a new chemical weapon.'' That caused six eyes to widen at him in fear. ''Apparently there's been no fatal dosage, but we need to run some tests. Right now.''

All these new developments made Tony's head hurt. So he'd been poisoned or something? They _all_ had? Could that explain why he felt so confused and hazy all of a sudden? He supposed he would get answers soon, but was kind of worried about what they'd be. Eventually he fell into step with the group of his peers being led by Gibbs towards the elevator. His best option right now was to just stay on his boss' six. It always worked in the past. He just hoped this particular situation didn't continue to be as baffling as it was right then. If a terrorist group was planning an attack, whether it be a personal one on team Gibbs or something much bigger, then his mornings were about to become a lot less boring. No more cold case files were going to be looked over any time soon.

Yep. Things were about to get interesting, alright.

* * *

 **Don't know what your first impressions are, but don't be shy to post them in the reviews. I literally just improvise these stories as I go along so if it's just a confusing mess then sorry. If not, I hope you enjoyed the opening chapter. The 2nd will be up very soon. I promise it'll explain why Ziva wasn't feeling any effects of the 'formula' as well.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two. Wasn't sure what direction to take with this one tbh. It's a wee bit shorter than the last one and kind of focuses more on Tony and Ziva than the case. But I promise the next one will move the case along a bit. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and followed. Hope you enjoy,**

* * *

Abby Sciuto always worked hard. In fact, she often spent entire days rampantly rushing around from machine to machine in her lab as she did her duty for her team. It was a caf-pow fueled, chemistry themed blur that consumed most of her time. And she loved every second of it. Usually. There _were_ times when her job kind of sucked. Like seriously sucked. Whether it was the time she had to run ballistics on the bullet that killed her best friend, or that dreadful week where she seemed to get Tony in more and more trouble as he was almost perfectly framed for murder. She got him out of it in the end, but only after she nearly had a nervous breakdown. On this particular Monday afternoon, she wasn't being pushed for time per say, but she was feeling the all-too familiar worry and stress that could only mean her friends were in trouble. Running blood and urine samples was bread and butter stuff for the forensic scientist, but running them from all three of your closest co-workers certainly cranked the tension up a notch or two.

Major Maspec started alerting her of the fact it had ran its last test on its last sample. It belonged to Ziva, and Abby found herself actually praying that it was clean. She knew that super Gibbs would show up any second so she had to-

''What ya got, Abs?''

Oh. Here's the bossman now. Abby guessed it was time to break some news. Mostly bad news in this instance. But first she wanted some information of her own.

''Gibbs,'' She began in a stern tone, ''what's happening? Like, honestly I'm happy to run these little High School grade tests, but when they're on your three best friends and give scary results…I think I'm owed an explanation.'' She didn't even try and hide the anxiety in her features.

He held her gaze with his own version of a worried look. ''You might not like it.'' He said gently, adopting his rare diplomatic tone.

''Yeah, well I don't think you're gonna like the results of this little mystery experiment so-''

''Abs.'' He interrupted with a tired sigh. ''Just tell me what you've got, and I'll tell you what I've got.''

That sounded like a fair deal. She turned to her computer and read the newly received results of Ziva's test. She was extremely relived at what she saw, but couldn't find any excitement within her after her previous findings on Tony and McGee.

''Huh.'' She started in a somewhat flat tone. ''That's something I guess.''

''What's something?'' Gibbs asked, clearly his patience was wearing thin.

''Ziva's clean. There are no signs of any foreign body or toxin in her system whatsoever.'' She explained with a furrowed brow.

Gibbs seemed almost surprised to hear that news, but clearly wanted more from her. ''What about the other two?'' He asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

Abby sighed. ''I was afraid you might ask that.'' A sentence that must have had Gibbs exploding with concern on the inside but, on the _outside_ , had him simply raise his eyebrows in expectation of further elaboration. ''Tony and Timmy both had an unknown mixture of substances in their bloodstream. I don't know what it is, but it's definitely not good.''

That brought about a slight narrowing of the eyes from her leader. ''And you're sure Ziva's clear?'' He asked.

''That's what it says.''

He nodded slightly. ''Any idea what effects they might suffer from?''

She considered that for a second. ''Not right now, but I can work on it.''

''Okay.'' He then turned to leave but was abruptly stopped by the hand on his shoulder. When he was forcibly span back round, he met a stern glare from the Gothic forensic scientist.

''That was what _I_ have.'' She began, returning to her more fierce tone. ''Have you forgotten our deal? What is going on, Gibbs?''

His responding sigh was both heavy and telling. He was clearly hoping to avoid this conversation. ''Not much. Got a call from the leader of a cell we busted last week. Told me my three agents were being used to test out a new chemical weapon of some kind.''

A shocked gasp escaped her mouth before she could help it. This was bad. Like really, really bad. ''Oh my god! They're not…you know…''

''They said it wasn't a fatal dose.'' He reassured her calmly.

She still had to sit down on her stool as all these new developments hit her like a freight train. ''But...like, why?''

''Don't know.''

So many questions were bouncing around inside her hyperactive mind. Who is this terrorist guy? Why was he doing this? How badly affected were her friends going to be by this poison?

''How come Ziva's clean if he said all three were being…experimented on?'' That was the first question she actually managed to voice to her boss.

''Don't know.''

Again? Really? He must know something. Anything to calm her heart rate down a little bit.

''Could this stuff be contagious? How the hell did it even get into their bloodstreams?'' The stare she then received was one she recognized from the Gibbs book of faces as the _you gotta answer these questions yourself_ stare. ''I'll find out. I'll find out everything I can about this…thing hurting our boys and _you'll_ kick this anonymous caller's ass.''

He nodded as he slipped his game face back on. ''Good plan.'' And with that he was out of the lab and marching off to fight another war.

Abby just hoped this whole hinky situation wasn't as terrible as it seemed. Her friends were in trouble…again. But she couldn't panic. They needed her best work, and she needed a _lot_ of Caf-pow. She wouldn't let them down by having the nervous breakdown she was undoubtedly on the brink of. This chemical puzzle could be solved. She was going to do just that: solve it. This guy wanted to mess with Team Gibbs? Well he may just have underestimated a key member of them.

 **...**

After about two solid minutes of a bright light being shined in each of his eyes, Tony was starting to grow agitated. Never mind that the light belonged to his long term friend and trusted physician, Ducky. Never mind that he was only being examined out of concern and love. Never mind that a bad guy had just…infected him? Or maybe poisoned him? Wait, why was he being examined again? He knew he was sat on one of the autopsy tables, because his butt was getting cold. But, other than that, he felt very uneducated on _why_ he was there.

''Hey Duckman, why exactly are you interested in my eyes again?'' His own voice sounded unfamiliar to him. It was almost a slur and he found himself wondering if he was actually making any sense. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe that was why the doctor _still_ hadn't told him the answer to that question. He was sure he'd asked it at least once before.

Ducky made a worried face and turned a glance at Ziva with a raised eyebrow. Ziva was here? That would explain why he felt that unnerving pressure in his chest he continuously felt in her presence recently. He couldn't even remember why that was. His memory was all over the place, in fact, and this whole thing felt like some sort of strangely realistic dream. But that was definitely his partner standing over Ducky's left shoulder. And that was definitely his partner's impatient, yet somehow concerned, glare being aimed in his direction. What had he done now?

''Anthony, my dear boy.'' The elderly ME started, in a tone that somehow suited the expression on Ziva's face. ''I am examining you for the same reason as ten minutes ago. You are clearly not entirely with us. I need to make sure there is nothing suggesting that this could be long term.''

That sounded worrying. So he might not wake up from this hazy dream state? He didn't like the sound of that one bit. Judging by the widening of his Israeli colleague's eyes, she wasn't too keen on the idea either. He met the deep, brown eyes of said Israeli, and was suddenly brought back to a night…sometime before then. A night of love and sweat and release. A night where they allowed themselves to be open and honest with each other, in their words and their actions. He knew this was a real memory and not a fabrication. Your mind can't even begin to fantasize about a night that perfect. For one or two precious seconds, his mind cleared and he felt like he was back on earth again. But then his partner's voice interrupted the sensation.

''Well, Ducky? _Are_ there any signs of permanent damage?'' Her thick voice was laced with concern. She sounded, and looked, like she was dreading the potentially bad answer to her question.

The Brit sighed heavily as he seemingly looked for the best way to word his response. That couldn't be good. ''Not that I can see. But it can be hard to tell at this early stage. This terrorist suggested it might get worse as the days pass. I fear the hospital might be a more suitable location for our poisoned friends.''

''We took them there earlier.'' Ziva said with a frustrated sigh. ''There were no signs of any internal damage to either of them. The doctor said to bring them back if their symptoms appeared to worsen.''

''Well, have they?''

Ziva looked at Tony again after receiving Ducky's inquiry. Her partner seemed to be losing more and more of his mind. He was talking less, but didn't seem sleepy anymore. His gaze seemed to just float around without any real focus. He looked like he was in a constant state of daydreaming. Like he was lost in his own head. In fact, the only time he seemed to be aware of his own existence was when she managed to lock her eyes to his. Whenever that happened, he stopped looking confused and scared and his stare turned longing and sad. As if he was ashamed of himself but wasn't sure why.

''Yes.'' She eventually replied through a tight throat. ''I mean just look at him, Ducky. He is losing his mind.'' Her voice wavered as her worry started to bulldoze through her composure.

''Hey!'' Tony jumped in with a indignant tone. ''I am right here, you know. You guys think it's cool to just talk about me behind my back?''

Ziva's brow furrowed. ''We are right in front of your face, Tony.'' She explained in a somewhat motherly voice.

He seemed to have genuinely forgotten that was the case. His eyes went distant as he seemed to reconsider his entire viewpoint on the situation. ''Oh yeah.'' He said slowly. ''You're right there.'' He pointed in there general direction. ''And I'm right here.'' He added as his finger now aimed downwards, gesturing towards his feet. ''In autopsy.''

Ziva met Ducky's gaze as they both expressed their sympathetic terror through their eyes.

''I'm in autopsy.'' DiNozzo repeated again. ''But…'' He added raising his hand as if he'd just had a small breakthrough on a case. Ziva supposed it might just have felt that way in his head. ''But I need to be upstairs. Because the boss needs me. We gotta catch a…terrorist?''

He looked up to Ziva for confirmation. It arrived in the shape of a small nod.

''Terrorist. I gotta help get this bad-guy, terrorist person.'' He rambled on slowly. ''So I can't be in autopsy with you guys right in front of me, I need to be upstairs with a computer right in front of me.'' He concluded with a clap of his hands. ''Let's go, Ziva.''

Before her brain could catch up with his new found power of obvious deduction, he had jumped to his feet and shot off in the direction of the elevator. She rolled her eyes and turned to Ducky to offer both her gratitude and her apologies in the form of a gentle squeeze of the old man's shoulder. He tilted his head with a warning glare.

''You better keep an eye on him. How is McGee doing?''

She felt a stab of guilt as she realized that she'd completely forgotten about McGee until this point. ''He was worse than Tony last time I saw him. He could barely move and seemed terrified of everyone.''

Her answer brought another worried expression to the doctor's kind face. ''You know where to find me if anything further develops. I strongly suggest that someone supervises young Anthony tonight. I fear he might end up physically wandering just as far as his mind seems be.''

Ziva nodded in reassurance. She had, of course, already signed herself up for Tony-watching duty tonight. She presumed, with Abby working so hard to find information on this apparent chemical weapon, that she would be taking care of McGee in her lab for the next unknown number of days.

''Hey, you coming?'' Tony's voice actually startled her out of her thoughts. He was waiting in the doorway with an expectant expression.

Without saying a word, she made her way over to him and they fell into stride as they left the cold air of autopsy and entered the elevator. The doors closed and their ascent began. Ziva couldn't help but recollect their previous elevator experiences over the best part of a decade that they worked together. The heated argument regarding orders and _pretending_ that almost led to her spilling her guts to Tony about her feelings for him. The slow, silent arrival back to the bullpen after he'd led a mission to rescue her from Somalia. The day Mike Franks died, and he grounded her with his embrace as she almost gave up on the job she previously loved so much. That awful day the previous year, when NCIS was bombed and she and Tony found themselves trapped in a stationary elevator for hours on end. He got her through all those low points. He held her hand and helped her back to her feet after she'd suffered all the emotional sucker punches the world threw at her. Surely she had to do the same for him now. She owed him that much. He was struggling. He was suffering. She could see it in his eyes. She could feel it in his tense silence and heavy breathing. He needed someone to help him through this, and it had to be her. She would not entrust anyone else to do it. She cared for him too much to leave this task in someone else's hands.

She hadn't realized she'd hit the emergency stop button until the lights dimmed and Tony was looking around in a confused manner. His gaze settled on her face after she reached for his hand and held it in hers. When he met her eyes, that sad and longing look returned to his face.

''I'm sorry, Ziva.'' He whispered in an ashamed tone.

Her brow furrowed at his unexpected apology. ''What for?'' She dared to ask. If this was about their night time activities two weeks before, then she was starting to regret stopping the elevator.

''I just feel like I've let you down, you know?'' He explained to her with raw honesty. ''Like I'm causing you trouble. You look worried about me and…usually that means I'm being a complete idiot.''

Oh, so he just feels guilty about his current state of mind? That was a far safer topic. She could easily reassure him in this instance because, quite frankly, he was being ridiculous. There was no way he had let her down. He'd _never_ let her down. She was actually just thinking about how often she had let _him_ down, before his forgiveness and loyalty always shined through to save her. Her heart squeezed with love for this man. His mind was all over the place, but he still found it within himself to look out for her. What had she done to deserve this man as her partner? He certainly deserved better than what she'd offered him in recent months. Whoever was playing with her best friend's head may just find one of her bullets lodged in theirs before the week was out.

''You have never let me down, Tony.'' She reassured him in a soft tone. ''Someone is playing with your mind. I know you're confused right now, but I want you to remember that I am with you. That I will always be here if you need me. That no matter what your brain is telling you, I will never feel disappointed in you. We _will_ get through this, Tony, I promise.''

Tears were now forming in his eyes as he clearly fought to hold back an oncoming burst of emotion. ''I just feel so lost, Ziva.'' He told her thickly. The break in his voice completely broke her heart and the backs of her eyes began to burn with her own impending tears. ''The only time anything makes sense is when I look at you. Without seeing you there…I don't think I'd be able to function at all.''

She knew he needed her comfort right then. In fact, she knew she needed his as well. She moved closer and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. She buried her face into his neck as he sniffed back against his oncoming sobs. His touch always grounded her. It always made her feel safe and loved. She hoped- well more like prayed- that hers had the same effect on him in that moment. She knew she loved him, and she now knew he needed her love to keep him afloat and stop him sinking into the demented abyss he was currently treading above.

''I am with you.'' She whispered against him. ''I am always with you. Please know that, Tony. Please remember that.''

He breathed in deeply a few times before pulling away from the hug. He nodded once as he acknowledged her pleas, before running a hand through her curls, an affectionate look replacing the confusion that had been marring his features all day.

''I'm just glad you're okay.'' He told her in a hushed tone. ''I'm so glad you don't have to go through this because…I'm not sure I'd be able to help you. And that would only drive me even more crazy.''

God, he was killing her. How can he always be so selfless? That was one thing this terrorist would never take away from Tony. He would always have a heart of gold. You could contaminate his bloodstream with whatever you like, but he would always be the incredible partner and friend she'd known for over eight years.

She squeezed his hand once in supportive reassurance. ''Well, failing to expose me to this weapon will be this man's biggest mistake.'' Her voice was now much sterner as her eyes darkened into ninja mode.

Her bad-ass sequence had just been activated. Tony loved both sides of his partner, and right then he needed both. She was the only one carrying the Team Gibbs torch, and he'd never had more faith in her to take this son of a bitch down at their boss' side. She hit the emergency stop button again and their journey upwards restarted. Not managing to poison Ziva's mind was a mistake all right. Harming her friends was an even bigger one.

It was show time.

* * *

 **I know it didn't really move the story along, but I thought a bit of Tiva intimacy was needed to set the tone for the rest of the chapters. Again, if it sucked, don't be afraid to let me know. I can always try and up my game.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3 in this not so epic saga. Thanks to everyone who's seemed to take a liking to this story. I tried my best to develop the case side of this fic in this chapter. But I've never been good at planning ahead. So if it seems like I'm pulling this plot out of my backside, it's probably because I am. Never the less I hope ya'll enjoy**

* * *

It had been 15 hours since the phone call. It had been a time of frustration and silent panic. Gibbs had learnt nothing useful in that whole time. Yes, he learned that Ziva hadn't been exposed to this mind-altering chemical weapon, but he had no idea what the weapon actually was or even how it found its way into his other two special agents' bloodstream. Not only was he short on that information, but he also had a new enemy lurking out there in the big bad underworld. An enemy who he also knew nothing about. He was about to march into battle without even knowing which direction to charge in. He hated it. His gut had just about been bellowing at him all day. He was two men short and one of them was the only person with the technical expertise to even begin to track this terrorist down. As he made his way to the Vance's office at 2200 hours, he hoped that maybe this guy was arrogant enough to call the director again and perhaps even give a name or reveal part of a plan. It was unlikely, but the ex-marine was starting to feel desperate at this stage.

He entered the office and met more pairs of eyes than he expected. Stood behind the desk on his right, was Leon Vance. Gibbs expected to see this man, but to the left stood his old friend, FBI special agent Tobias Fornell. He was slightly more surprised to see him but that feeling was short lived after his eyes settled on the bald man sat on one of the sofas at the far side of room. It was a certain one-eyed CIA operative that always spelt bad news. Trent Kort. The slimy, British schemer only ever appeared when something seriously bad was about to go down. Gibbs skipped the pleasantries, as always, and decided to get straight to the point.

''Why's he here?'' His question wasn't really aimed at Fornell or Vance specifically, but he expected an answer from one of them.

''Gibbs.'' Fornell greeted with a blank expression. ''Heard you were short on man-power.''

He stopped looking in the direction of Kort and instead redirected his glare to his FBI associate. ''And you came to what?'' He asked. ''Enjoy watching me struggle? Why are you here, Tobias?''

''You know why. A security breach in any federal agency is FBI jurisdiction.''

Gibbs may just have laughed if he wasn't so pissed off. ''Right, and you think _my_ team need investigating?''

''It doesn't matter what I think, Jethro.'' Fornell responded more sternly. ''All that matters is getting to the bottom of this. I'm here to help you, not undermine you.''

Deep down, Gibbs knew that was the case. But history often suggested that other agencies were far from willing to let him lead a case he was personally connected to. His natural reaction was to be skeptical in situations like this. Fornell knew him, though. He knew that trying to bench him would be a waste of time and effort. A joint operation _actually_ made sense at this time. He needed the help, even if he would die before admitting it. That didn't mean he was willing to accept it form Kort, though.

''Okay.'' He started in an equally strong tone. ''You wanna help me? Start by explaining what he's doing here?'' He pointed in the direction of the CIA puppet, not needing to vocally elaborate on who he was talking about.

''I told you, Leon,'' The hairless man spoke up for the first time. ''I'm not exactly in Gibbs' inner circle of trust. He doesn't like listening to me.''

The director had been quiet up until this point. Gibbs read Vance's facial expression as troubled, and maybe even a little nervous. He was clearly trying to find the right wording for his plan of action. ''You'll wanna hear him out, Gibbs.'' He eventually advised. ''He's got some intel we could definitely use.''

Of course he did. Kort always had something to bargain with, but he only revealed it if he gained something in return. ''Yeah?'' Gibbs turned back to the CIA man with narrowed eyes. ''Well what are you waiting for? Spill it.''

Kort sighed at the familiarity of Gibbs' attitude. '' Straight down to business. I always liked that about you.'' He said in his usual emotionless tone. ''Those terrorists you disposed of last week. They were only a very small branch on a much bigger tree.'' Jesus, what was with these people and metaphors? ''The name they identify by is 'The Black Sails'. They specialize in targeting Naval ports and vessels.''

A name. It wasn't much, but at least it was something. It was more than Gibbs knew a minute ago. He supposed his only option was to reluctantly accept the CIA's help. ''What do you know about them?''

Kort stood up and made his way over to the other three men. He handed Gibbs a file with the terrorist group's name written on the front. ''They were a fanatical bunch of nobodies when we first heard about them. They did some business with our old friend, Rene Benoit, back when I'd infiltrated his operations.''

La Grenouilles. That brought back some bad memories. Jenny Shepard had gone behind Gibbs' back and placed his senior field agent undercover and very much in harm's way. It was around the same point in time that Kort had been engraved onto the NCIS list of untrustworthy scumbags.

''At the time, they were nothing.'' The scumbag in question continued. ''But I decided to keep an eye on their movements anyway. The agency's been listening out for them ever since.''

''And now that you only have one eye, you lost track of them?'' Fornell asked with a slight smirk of amusement.

Kort sarcastically smiled in response. ''Now we know the leader of these people is far more clever than we thought.'' He said matter-of-factly. ''No details have ever been uncovered regarding his identity or even his nationality. His fellow criminals refer to him as 'Kaiser'. Obviously an alias.''

So this Kaiser guy was behind this little experiment being carried out on his team? Gibbs found himself wishing he could meet this guy in person.

''I can vouch for that.'' Fornell added in a more serious voice. ''I've had dozens of cases appear on my desk mentioning a guy named Kaiser. He's been an international pain in the ass for almost six years.''

Gibbs appreciated being provided with this information, but couldn't help but feel like it would've been more helpful earlier than this. ''Why am I only being told this now? The case was a week ago.''

''There was no way of knowing that there was a connection between your case and The Black Sails.'' Kort explained monotonously. ''The call Director Vance received this morning is a trademark Kaiser tactic. He knows that you have no means of tracking him down, and likes to showcase his upper hand. Not many people know his game. That's why I'm here.''

So this guy was over confident? That was good news for Gibbs. He'd dealt with quite a few characters like that over his long career. Their arrogance often proved to be their downfall.

''Any idea how these guys expose people to their new chemical weapons?'' The silver haired scout sniper asked, praying it might provide a clue as to how McGee and DiNozzo's blood was contaminated.

Kort seemed to be expecting that inquiry. ''So far, they've shown very little interest in airborne viruses. They seem to be using less random methods to distribute their formulas. Food or drink, most likely.''

''That makes it less complicated to transport.'' Vance injected his view on the situation. ''It also makes it easier to attack specific targets.''

''It would certainly appear so.'' Kort agreed with a sight nod. ''That would mean your agents would have most likely ingested this virus at some point over the last three or four days, Gibbs.''

Vance turned his gaze to the MCRT team leader. ''Get them talking.'' He ordered. ''They need to remember everything they've eaten since the end of last week.''

Gibbs furrowed his brow and gave his own version of an unsure expression. ''Not sure they can even remember their own names right now, Leon.'' He stated in a completely humorless tone.

Understanding shone in Vance's eyes. ''Where are DiNozzo and McGee at the moment?'' The director asked in somewhat softer voice.

''They're at Tony's apartment.'' Gibbs answered. ''Ziva's watching them.''

Vance nodded his approval. ''Well, call her and see if she can get the other two talking.'' He ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Gibbs nodded ''Okay.'' He confirmed before turning back to Fornell and Kort. ''I want everything you have on the Black Sails.'' He demanded with a steely glare. ''And this Kaiser guy.'' He added in an equally authoritative tone.

Fornell seemingly expected this request. ''All the files we have are on the way here as we speak.'' The long-time FBI agent assured. ''I told you I'm here to help, Jethro.''

Gibbs gave a grateful nod in reply before aiming an expectant look at Kort. The Brit simply rolled his eyes before giving his response. ''I'm sure I can arrange something.'' He eventually answered, albeit vaguely.

''You can expect our full cooperation on this case, gentleman.'' Vance ensured the group. ''We expect yours as well. This is a matter of national importance.''

The FBI and CIA representatives appeared to both agree to this. Gibbs still didn't trust Kort, but was honestly a lot happier than he was before this meeting. He had more intel on his latest nemesis, and had the additional resources of at least two more agencies. He would never say it, but he was relieved to have this extra back-up. It meant that he was half a step closer to finding Kaiser and bringing down his whole operation. His enemy may not have had a face, but at least it now had a name.

 **…**

''David.'' Ziva answered her cell after four rings. Upon seeing the display inform her that the call was coming from Gibbs' phone, she felt a moment of embarrassment at being caught off guard whilst in Tony's bathtub. She knew she had to answer anyway. That was why she brought her phone into the bathroom in the first place, after all.

'' _Ziva.''_ Her boss started in a stern tone. Clearly he wasn't calling for a social chat, but she already knew that. _''DiNozzo and McGee ate or drank something contaminated by whatever they've been infected by. They could've ordered something from the same place on Friday.''_ He stated, getting straight to the point. _''Find out what and where.''_

She was somewhat confused, but knew better than ask her boss any of the multiple questions racing through her mind at the time. ''Okay.'' She agreed slowly. ''I am guessing you will fill me in on everything tomorrow?'' She could tell, just by his voice, that he was in no mood for further explanation.

'' _Yeah.''_ He assured her calmly. _''Get them talking. They need to remember.''_ And with that, he abruptly hung up.

Clearly he was unwilling to stay on the line for a chat. He wasn't even concerned about how her babysitting duties were going. She wasn't sure what she'd have told him if he asked her about them, anyway. After cooking dinner for her loopy friends, she had sat them down in front of the TV and decided she deserved a relaxing soak. That was why she found herself enjoying a soothing bath in Tony's tub. She would do anything for her colleagues, but still needed a break from their confused questions and repeated discussions. It was just too much. She realized that the water was now getting uncomfortably cool, and that it was time to re-emerge from the little porcelain world she was currently dwelling in. Her familiarity with Tony's apartment seemed to have grown to the point where she knew where everything was in the bathroom. She had spent a lot of time there recently as she and her partner started spending a lot more of their free time together. In fact, the weekend just gone was the first one where they hadn't seen each other for about a month. She liked this new-found comfort level they'd discovered together. She always felt at home in Tony's presence. It just felt right.

She did her best to try and dry her hair with a towel. She decided she may have to drop a hint to Tony, whenever he'd recovered his mental health, to buy a hair dryer. After getting dressed in some simple yoga pants and one of Tony's old OSU t-shirts, she made her way back to the living room to make sure her friends hadn't ran off. She was partially relieved to find them sat exactly where she left them, but they seemed suspiciously happy. They were confused and fed up last time she saw them. Now they seemed to be enjoying a conversation about a movie character or something. She knew they couldn't be cured of their mental illness, because they would have definitely interrupted her bath in excitement if that was the case. So what was going on?

''So basically…'' McGee slurred as Ziva entered the room. ''John Travolta's face is on Nic Cage's face…who's the cop.'' Tony nodded in confirmation as McGee hiccuped and tried to wrap his head around whatever ludicrous plot was in discussion. ''And Nic Cage's face is also on Travolta's face and…he's the bad guy.''

''Yeah.'' Tony nodded again. ''Wait…no. Cage is the bad guy and Travolta's the cop.'' Ziva suspicion grew as her partner slurred his words as well. ''But…their face's are swapped. So the bad guy is the cop and the cop is the bad guy. Or, at least, the cop _looks_ like the bad guy.'' He concluded.

McGee nodded, but Ziva could tell he still didn't follow. ''Their faces have been swapped.'' He repeated, before abruptly snapping his fingers in apparent realization. '' _That's_ why it's called Face Swap! I get it.'' He seemed pleased to have made that connection.

Tony grinned back. ''Exactly.'' He said, before his smile dropped. ''Wait. It's called Face/Off, isn't it?''

''Are you two drunk?'' Ziva asked in disbelief. Both of her colleagues were definitely not this talkative when she left them earlier, they were both acting as if they'd had a few too many alcoholic beverages. It actually felt more familiar dealing with them in this state as opposed to their ever increasing depression and bewilderment of the past 15 hours. The way they both turned to her at a ridiculously slow speed made her certain their heads were now even more scrambled.

''Oh hey, Ziva.'' Tony eventually gave a vocal reaction. ''Hey look Mc…person, it's Ziva.'' He pointed to her and Tim nodded in greeting. ''You have a nice nap?''

''Bath.'' She corrected as she sat down on the couch next to him. ''And yes it was lovely.''

''Your hair's wet.'' He pointlessly informed her with a smile. ''Looks good. Smells good, too.''

Oh yeah, this was drunken Tony alright. He always tried to be charming when he'd had a few. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. He lifted a few loose curls and sniffed them. He was really misbehaving now. She never minded this sort of intimate action in private, but McGee was right there. He may have been just as drunk as DiNozzo, and therefore probably wasn't even watching, but it still felt wrong.

''What have you been drinking?'' She asked as a slight wave of panic hit her. Piling drink on top of the toxins that were already frying their brain cells seemed very dangerous.

DiNozzo must still have been able to read her concern, even under the circumstances, because he made the familiar face he always used on her when he tried to reassure her. ''Relax.'' He slurred with a dismissive wave of his hand. ''We've been sharing one bottle of beer between us. Thought it might help reboot our brains.''

McGee nodded in support. ''That's true. It is quite a big bottle, though.'' The younger man informed her.

There was no way that Tony's breath could smell so strong from just a beer. That was definitely liquor she smelled earlier. ''Can I have some of this…beer?'' She asked innocently.

''Where are my manners?'' Tony rhetorically asked himself. ''McGoogle! Pass me the beverage.'' He ordered a bit too loudly.

McGee reached down and retrieved a, indeed, very large bottle from the floor by his feet. As Tony snatched it off him and offered it to Ziva, she noticed that not only was it nearly empty, but it was absolutely _not_ beer.

''Tony this is Rum.'' She stated in a stunned tone. '' _Spiced_ rum.''

Both their eyebrows furrowed at the apparently shocking news. ''I thought it tasted kinda funny.'' McGee said after the information sank in.

''Your insides must be on fire.'' Ziva jaw still hadn't risen from its dropped position after she'd asked this.

Tony actually patted his stomach a few times, as if this would prove or disprove Ziva's hypothesis. ''Well I can't feel _anything_.'' He announced. ''So that's good.''

''No, it is _not_ good.'' She admonished sternly. ''Your heads are already being played with. Getting blind drunk is only going to make things worse.'' She continued as she placed the bottle of rum out of the reach of her partner.

''You don't know that.'' He argued. ''Maybe we'll wake up in the morning and be in the clear.''

''Or perhaps your brain will be damaged beyond repair.'' She raised her voice slightly as her patience with him ran thin. ''You cannot take matters into your own hands, Tony. This is exactly why you two need a baby-sitter.''

He hiccuped as his eyes narrowed slightly. He looked like he was trying to focus on her face. ''Actually, I can see about four baby-sitters.'' He told her in a now stronger slur. ''Multiple angry Ziva's. We're screwed, probie.''

Apparently he was failing to focus on her, then. She was honestly surprised he could still talk, or even remain conscious. They both looked at McGee after he didn't respond to Tony's warning. His head was slumped to the right and he'd started lightly snoring. Ziva was actually relieved that at least one over sized child was asleep. Now she just had to deal with the louder one.

''Huh.'' Tony started with a furrowed brow. ''Looks like that's the sleep problem solved. How come he gets to fall asleep? I can't fall asleep.'' His expression and tone were reminiscent of a jealous sibling.

''Have you tried to?'' Ziva asked quietly, trying not to disturb their passed out friend.

He looked back to her and the sadness she'd been noticing in his eyes for most of the day returned once again. He sighed as his eyes grew a little misty. Her stomach flipped at this sudden change in his behavior. It was as if her question had sent him back to the hellish reality of their current situation.

''No.'' He replied softly. ''I was kind of hoping I might pass out as well. At least catch a _few_ winks, you know?''

Her face melted into a more affectionately sympathetic expression as she felt herself feeling immeasurably sorry for the man sat beside her. His whole world had been turned on its head that day. He was clearly terrified. He could always hide his true emotions from other people, but not her. She could tell he was scared of what the future held. She knew the unknown consequences of this terror plot could very well be severe. Would the effects of this poison _ever_ wear off? She was petrified to know the answer and guessed he was as well.

''Tony,'' She began in an extremely intimate tone. ''I know this is hard for you. I know it is scary. Believe me, I am scared as well. But you cannot just harm yourself even further in an attempt to make this stop.''

He ran a hand over his face as his eyes closed in anguish. ''I just wanted to make it go away.'' He almost yelled his frustrated outburst. '' And you know what? It's worked. I can handle being drunk, but I can't handle whatever the hell was happening earlier. If I sober up from the liquor tomorrow and I'm still losing my mind, at least I'd have got a break. A break from this nightmare.''

Ziva's heart squeezed as she listened to his admissions. Her partner, the man she loved more than anything, was going through this hell while she sat there being completely oblivious to just how much he was suffering. She hated this. She hated not being able to help him. Even after hearing just a sample of what was going on his head, she understood why he'd hit the bottle. She didn't approve of it, but she understood it. He was probably willing to do anything to try and stop his mental deterioration at this stage. She knows she would be.

''Tony, when you are struggling this much, please just talk to me about it.'' She begged softly as she covered his hand with hers. ''I told you I will be here for you, no matter what. I may not be able to make this go away, but I can try and help you.''

He hiccuped again before appearing to accept her point. ''Even when I'm a drunken idiot?'' He asked with a slight glint of mischief in his eyes.

She chuckled at his typical use of self-flagellating humor. ''Yes, even when you are a pain in the ass.''

''Is that the same thing?''

Her smile grew at seeing his furrowed brow. ''Well, usually you are a pain in the ass when you are drunk,'' She said teasingly. ''And you are always an idiot so-''

''Hey! Don't sound too sincere, sweetcheeks. I'm a dying man here.''

Her smile dropped and her mouth once again dropped as she gaped at him in disbelief. She didn't know what to say, so just hit him not so lightly on the shoulder. He yelped out in pain before making a face suggesting she'd just betrayed him. In reality, it was her who felt betrayed.

''Don't you dare say that.'' She ordered in a genuinely angry voice. ''How can you even think that?''

''What?''

She hit him again for good measure. ''You are _not_ dying, Tony.'' His face darkened after her, seemingly unsuccessful, reassurance. He was actually serious about this. ''Tony,'' She began in a much softer tone, ''Have you seriously been thinking that?''

He shook his head, but then contradicted the action. ''I don't know…maybe. It has crossed my mind. I mean, chemical weapons are meant to kill, right?'' He looked back into her eyes, and her chest tightened at the pain she saw in his. ''You must've considered it as well.''

Actually, she hadn't. Any scenario where he didn't survive was too unbearable to think about. She would not allow it to become a reality. If the team lost him, they would lose her too. That was something none of them would let happen. They always got through the tough times. They just needed the collective will power of the entire NCIS family to do it.

''No, I have not.'' She argued. ''I have been trying my hardest to avoid literally being sick with worry, but not about whether you will live through this or not. I know you will. I just know it.'' Her throat grew tight as she fought back impending tears. ''What I am terrified of is you giving up on yourself. I need you to fight this. If you give up, I cannot do anything to help you. I do not want to see you suffer like this. Please never let these dark thoughts consume you, Tony. Never forget you are not alone in this.''

The last statement was a little homage to what he'd told her after her father's death. She had appreciated his words so much back then, but still failed to prove it to him. She would show him how much she now understood the concept by getting him through this latest challenge. He needed her and she needed him, and there was no longer any shame in admitting it. He leaned his head against the back of the couch and looked at the ceiling as his tears finally escaped. When he turned to meet her gaze again she saw nothing but love accompanying the tears in his hazel eyes.

''I'm sorry.'' He whispered in a soft slur. ''I know you're always there for me, but sometimes I need a reminder. I _am_ gonna keep fighting. I promise.'' He squeezed her hand before a yawn filled the air between them with a foul smell once again. ''I think I'm gonna try sleeping now.'' He decided as his eyes slowly slid shut.

''Perhaps you should move to your bed.'' She advised, still trying to fight the emotion straining her voice. ''We should let McGee take the couch. That armchair cannot be comfortable.''

''Yeah.'' He agreed drowsily. ''But where are you gonna sleep, Ziva?''

''I can just sleep on the carpet.''

He simultaneously hiccuped again and opened his eyes to aim a disbelieving look at her. ''Don't be ridiculous. You can have the bed. I can stay in here with Timmy.''

She smiled at his rare usage of that name for McGee. ''It is _your_ apartment, Tony. And it is your bed.''

''I don't mind.'' He slurred. ''I can keep him company. Don't really wanna be alone anyway.''

Her smile dropped at that confession, and she decided that maybe they should just resolve this the easy way. ''Why don't we both just sleep in your bed?'' She offered in the lightest tone she could muster. ''I can keep an eye on you that way.''

Tony considered that for a few seconds before nodding. ''Makes sense.'' He eventually said. ''I mean, we've shared beds before, right? It's no big deal.''

And with that, he shakily stood up and walked away, muttering something about a 'blanket' and 'McSleeping Beauty'. Ziva was left to try and work out how she felt about that final statement. _No big deal_. She supposed it wasn't, but something about sleeping next to Tony made her feel a little bit nervous. Especially seeing as last time she did it, it was post-sex. That made it a _very_ big deal at the time. She was his lover that night, but now he just needed her to be his partner. To comfort him and be there for him in his time of need. She was more than willing to do that.

After they'd managed to help usher a somewhat unresponsive McGee on to the couch and sling a blanket over him, they turned off all the lights around the apartment. Ziva took care of the kitchen (so she could pour any remaining liquor down the sink) before meeting Tony in the bedroom. He was already under the covers with his eyes closed. She moved to the other side of the bed before sliding under the sheets next to him. The small bed didn't leave much room for personal space, but neither of them ever seemed to care about that. She found instant comfort and warmth as she lay next to him. The nervousness she felt a few minutes ago seemed silly now. This was actually very comforting. Her own exhaustion was just about to overcome her, when Tony's voice traveled the short distance to her through the darkness.

''I'm sorry, Ziva.'' He whispered with a heavy sigh.

''For what?'' She asked after a deep yawn.

''For being a pain in the ass.''

She actually chuckled at his throwback to their previous conversation. ''It is fine. I am used to it.''

His voice remained serious, though, as he made his next point with a thick voice. ''I know I can sometimes scare you, and I'm just so sorry to put you through this. You deserve better than me.''

Her smile faded as her thoughts also became serious. Her heart once again squeezed with love for her partner. How can he think that? As far as she was concerned it was _him_ who deserved better, not her. She was completely blessed to know him. There was no better person than him in her opinion. Did she need to tell him that? He was apologizing to her for reasons he was completely imagining. Perhaps she _did_ need to reassure his guilty conscience.

''It is not your fault, Tony.'' She whispered as softly and sincerely as she could. ''Yes, I do not deserve you as a partner, but that is because you are too good for me. You are the best friend anyone could ever have. Don't think you are responsible for what is happening. I do not blame you. No one blames you. We are all being put through this by a force beyond our control.''

He reached for her hand and she willingly slid her fingers between his. This was a supportive touch and both of them certainly needed it.

''Please,'' His thick voice cracked as he forced it through a tight throat. ''Please don't let this guy get to you as well. I can't watch you go through this. It would destroy me.''

She felt a rogue teardrop roll down her cheek. Was she crying? She did not even notice, because she was too busy literally falling head-over-heels in love with the man whose bed she was currently lying in. Oh, who was she kidding? That happened years ago.

She stretched up to kiss his forehead with utter adoration. ''We will beat this, Tony.'' She whispered against his cheek. ''I promise this will get better.''

They remained close to each other as they drifted off into slumber. Their hands were as firmly connected as their souls. Ziva hoped Gibbs would have some new information regarding the identity of their latest foe. This guy would not know what was about to hit him. He would be hunted down and be dealt the wrath of a pissed off ex-marine and an equally pissed off ex-Mossad officer. But her priority right now, as always, was protecting her partner and being at his side when he needed it. They needed each other, and right there in the cocoon of Tony's bed sheets, all they _had_ was each other.

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 **I know it's kind of implied that Kort was 'dealt with' by Ray Cruz on the show, but I thought he might add a little bit more to the story. It's never really covered in this chapter, but Tony's drunkenness temporarily overrides his infected brain. That's why he seems to be more like himself. And the only reason Ziva didn't ask him and McGee about what they might have both eaten or drank together was because they were both completely wasted. Thanks for reading. I'll try and make it more interesting in part 4.**


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter is all plot. No Tiva at all in this one. Sorry, I know how annoying some people find these chapters, but I thought it would develop the story nicely. Hope those of you who are enjoying the story so far enjoy this as well. Feedback's been great so far. Thanks guys**

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Malachi Ben-Gidon was always a careful man. As a Mossad operative, it came with the territory. He always tried to make sure he knew exactly what options he had in any situation. It was part of his advanced training: Have a plan of attack, a plan of defense and, most importantly, have an escape plan. If your back was well and truly against the wall, you could either fight to the death or climb over the wall and run. That was what his former Director, Eli David, had always told him. It was almost amusing how often that metaphor actually became a literal situation over the years for Malachi. But, as with most advice he received from Eli, it stuck with him. He never started a mission without having an escape route plotted. This route was only used if the plan of attack fails. In fact, running away from the job was only an option after plans A through to Z all failed. That was why meticulous preparation was always vital.

On a wet and windy day in Dublin, he didn't even have one single plan up his sleeve.

This was no mission. There were no team mates in the area to back him up. He was alone, he was unprepared and he definitely didn't have an escape plan. But he had no choice but to walk into what was undoubtedly a trap. If death was what this brought to him, then so be it. He deserved it after betraying everything he believed in. He was betraying his country, his friends and his former director. He could almost feel Eli turning in his grave as his only remaining daughter was being stabbed in the back by yet another Mossad agent. But in doing this, he was actually proving his loyalty to his wife and children. He knew it was dangerous to start a family in his line of work, but he found himself doing so anyway. He had changed his ways, much like his old partner, Ziva. He loved his family more than anything. He would die for them without hesitation, and it occurred to him that he was probably about to. They were his weakness. A weakness that these people- this _man-_ exploited.

They had his family. They had him wrapped around their finger. He knew he had to do whatever it took to ensure his loved ones' survival. He just hoped the world would understand why he was doing this. He had no choice.

He exited the cab and found himself stood in front of an old rundown pub on the edge of the city. This was the meeting point. The local taxi driver must have known something bad was going down, because he sped off down the street before Malachi could even reach for his wallet. Well, at least if he did die, he would do it thirty Euros richer. He took in his surroundings and couldn't see any signs of life in the surrounding the area. Just an abandoned factory opposite the pub and a few rotten looking houses dotted the down the sides of the road. It was the perfect spot for some illegal activities.

He decided he could only fight against the Irish weather for so long, and sought shelter in the small porch at the building's entrance. He mentally prepared himself for what could be his last encounter of any kind, and knocked on the black door three times. After a few seconds, the door opened slightly to reveal half the face of an overweight man with a light beard and thinning hair.

''We're closed.'' He snapped quickly. Malachi could just about understand his thick accent.

He guessed the rather indignant code word would have to be put into use. ''I am here to see a man about a dog.'' The Israeli said slowly.

This seemed to strike a chord in the man's brain because, after hearing the statement, his features noticeably darkened and he opened the door all the way to let Malachi enter. He stepped inside the pub and was immediately hit by the smell of stale cigarette smoke and mould. He looked around at the dusty and rotten bar area, and must have failed to hide the disgust in his face, because his new companion spoke up again.

''It's a bit untidy.'' He informed the Mossad man. ''But it keeps the Garda away, like. Them feckers stay away when there's no customers.''

Malachi wasn't sure he caught any of that, but he figured by the relative lightness of the man's tone that it wasn't anything relevant to what was about to happen. ''Are they in the back room?'' He asked, getting straight to the point. There was no time for chatting.

The Irishman nodded once with a more solemn expression before pointing at a door to the right of the bar. Malachi took a deep breath and made his way over to it. He pushed straight through it, wasting no more time with knocking, and found himself in what must have been a private poker room. But the four men he was looking at were not interested in playing games. Two were already pointing a gun at him while the third quickly grabbed him and span him in the direction of the wall. He was then thoroughly searched for weapons and bugs, before being roughly ushered into a chair at the table in the center of the room. Okay, so far so good. The fourth man, who had been stood calmly by another door opposite the one that Malachi came through, was given a nod of confirmation. It must have meant they were satisfied that the Mossad man was no threat because, after receiving the nod, the deadpanned man then tapped three times against the wooden door he was guarding.

This was it. Malachi knew he was about to meet him. He knew what a rare displeasure that was for any of the people fighting evil in the world. He was about to be in the same building- the same _room_ as a ghost. The man who was holding his family for ransom. The man who had the strongest hand in this poker match. He literally knew nothing about this guy. He didn't know what he looked like, what he sounded like or even where he was from. The only real information he had on his enemy was that he had all the power in this situation.

And that he was simply referred to as 'Kaiser'.

He kept staring at the door in front of him, expecting it the fly open and reveal a dark silhouette of a man surrounded by blinding white light. It was how many supernatural figures seemed to emerge in the films. But after a painful amount of tense moments, the door opened and a man stepped in without any special entry sound or lighting effects. He was average height, average build and looked to be in his mid 40s. He could have been mistaken for your average businessman. That was if you didn't know any better.

Malachi knew better. As the suited man approached the table, the Israeli took time to visibly assess features of his foe. He looked fairly ordinary. He had dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His face was fairly pale but was still somehow full of color. The only physical characteristics that really stood out where the long scar down the right side of his face, and his deep blue eyes. As Kaiser sat down opposite Malachi, the Mossad agent could just _feel_ the coldness in those soul-piercing orbs. It felt like they were staring straight through his skin, finding every secret and every memory locked away inside. For the first time in his adult life, Officer Ben-Gidon was terrified.

''You know I used to play poker a lot when I was younger.'' Kaiser said conversationally. His strong voice broke the previous silence with explosive authority, and it sent a shiver down Malachi's spine. The accent sounded German, but he supposed that didn't really matter anymore. It was unlikely that any new-found intel on this guy could be put to use by a dead man.

''Did you ever play, Mr Ben-Gidon?''

Those eyes penetrated his defenses once more and he found himself almost too frightened to speak. But he knew by the look on this man's face that he expected his questions to be answered. There would be no arguing with it.

''Yes.'' He responded a bit shakily. ''It is a useful skill to have in the world of espionage.''

That earned him a nod of agreement from his scrutinizer. ''Absolutely. I expect that quite a few of your undercover assignments involved some gambling-addicted targets. It is an ideal time to catch them off guard.'' He sounded as if he was speaking from experience, but whether he'd gained it as a target or an intelligence agent was unclear.

''That is certainly the case for the less intelligent targets.'' Malachi confirmed, but with no trace of humor.

''Some card players are clever, but in the wrong ways.'' Kaiser announced in a wise tone. ''It takes a certain amount of intellect to win a poker game. But… it also takes a certain amount of stupidity to start playing it in the first place. Especially in the world you and I live in.''

The terrorist overlord removed his suit jacket and chucked it to one of his men. They caught it without even flinching. ''You see…it is never the game _on_ the table you should be focused on, it is the people sat around the table.''

''And who is sat around your table?'' Malachi asked, finding a more confident and composed voice.

The icy man in front of him let out a dark chuckle. ''Me? I do not play these games anymore. But I still win them.''

The fact that statement didn't make any sense wasn't a factor when it was this man saying it. Everything he said sounded like it was somehow true. He clicked his fingers at one of his men. Without needing further instructions, the loyal puppet left through the door leading to bar.

''Tell me, Malachi. Who do you think is the real winner? The man who has the biggest pile of money at the end of the game, or the man who kills everyone in the room… and takes everything on the table? One plays the match, and one plays the opponents. One plays by the rules, and one does not.''

Malachi tried to subtly take in a few deep breaths. ''I am guessing you do not play by the rules.'' He said as deadpanned as he possibly could. ''And you get everything on the table.''

Kaiser slammed his hand down on the old wooden frame standing between them. The sudden and loud act of aggression didn't fail to make Malachi jump in surprise. ''Exactly!'' The mastermind shouted excitedly. The wildness in his eyes suggested he spent a lot of the time suppressing his psychotic side. His internal pendulum swung from madness to calmness in the blink of an eye. ''I clear away the players, I clear away the table and I move on to the next match. Why? Because I don't just break the rules, I _burn_ them. I wipe them clean and make my own.''

His little outburst of excited narcissism seemed to have come to an end. The tension in the room was too much to bear. Malachi just wanted this done with. He just needed to ensure the survival of his family and then it would all be over. He would never have to look this terrible man in the eyes again. But that didn't stop his inner Mossad officer from wanting to find out more about his enemy. His curiosity got the better of him. He may as well drag this out. Kaiser sure as hell seemed to be in a chatty mood.

''Why have you come?'' The Israeli asked bravely. ''You could have sent any of your monkeys to collect the file from me, so why do it personally? And why here?''

The cold blue eyes narrowed a tiny bit after the questions were voiced. ''You want to interrogate me?'' His expression then unexpectedly melted into one of surprised glee. ''Really? You know, I like your style. Most people in your position are in tears by now. Begging and pleading for mercy. Pathetic.''

He leaned back in his chair and looked upwards with a distant look of introspection. ''It is rare for me to just…have a polite conversation these days. For both parties to talk and ask questions. Perhaps even over a drink.'' He leaned forward again and rested his elbows on the table. ''Are you a fan of Guiness, Mr Malachi?''

Jesus, he didn't contemplate it ever dragging on to this extent, or the topic being shifted so easily. ''Guinness?''

''Yes, as in the most iconic beer in the world.'' Kaiser said with a nod. ''I happen to love it. You want to know why I'm here in Ireland? Well I just so happen to be on my way to America, and I always do it via Dublin. I love drinking Guinness- _real_ Guiness- and this is the best place for it.''

Malachi had to laugh at that. ''What, _this_ bar? This is the best place?'' Despite the dire situation, he was honestly fighting back further cackles.

Kaiser seemed to be confused at the Israeli's reaction. ''You met my friend Noel, yes?'' The tone of his voice was once again powerfully icy. He was trying to regain the full attention of the Mossad man and reinstate the fearful tension that had been temporarily lost.

It worked, but Malachi tried his best to hide it. ''The fat man who answers the front door? Yes I briefly met him.''

''Well he may not look the part, but he is great at clearing up the mess I often leave behind. And he can pour a wonderful pint. I have sent someone to retrieve two of his finest for me and you. We can sit here, have a nice drink and have a nice chat. Doesn't that sound better than tearful begging?'' He asked in a genuinely polite manner. ''I think it does, but that is just me.''

Just as he finished his sentence, his errand man returned holding a tray with two pints of creamy dark liquid balancing evenly on top of it.

''Ah! Perfect timing.'' Kaiser exclaimed with a happy clap. ''Set them down please, Heinrich.''

Heinrich? A German name. Malachi's suspicion levels grew even more. He was now almost certain that was where his foes were from now. His thoughts were interrupted by one of the pint glasses being placed in front of him with a gentle thud. He had actually never tried Guiness, but was hardly feeling any excitement at the prospect of trying it for the first time in this man's presence. The man in question took a hefty swig out of his own drink and a made a face suggesting it was the best thing he'd ever tasted.

''Oh, yes.'' He eyed the drink with praise. ''Perfect.'' His stone-cold gaze then shifted up to meet Malachi's face. ''Please, don't be afraid to give it a try.''

Another command hidden behind polite words. The Israeli man decided it was not worth disobeying it under the circumstances. Kaiser was in firm control, after all. He gripped his pint and slowly took a sip from the frothy tip of his beer. It was actually very nice, but he still couldn't enjoy it.

''Well?'' His host asked expectantly.

He nodded with a small expression of approval. ''Not bad.'' He said casually. ''Not sure it was worth coming all the way to Ireland for, though.''

Kaiser sighed heavily at his company's understated reaction. ''Well…you are not here for the Guinness, Mr Ben-Gidon.'' It was obvious from his face that he was finally getting down to business.

''And neither are you.''

He smiled wryly as his opponent's response. He either like being spoken back to, or absolutely hated it. You would never be able to guess, such was the nature of this man. ''No.'' He agreed. ''I am here because I have something you want, and you now have something I want.'' He took another healthy gulp of his pint. ''You have the file.''

It was a statement, not a question. He knew the Mossad agent wouldn't have shown up without it.

''Yes.'' Malachi confirmed. ''And you have my family.''

Kaiser leaned forward again as he placed his glass down rather loudly. ''Yes. And it would be a fair trade, wouldn't it? The file for your wife and children.''

He wasn't sure if there was a correct answer for that question. A fair trade? Was it fair that they were taken in the first place? His family were innocent and loving. They were previously protected and shielded from the darkness and evil in the world. Was it really fair that their lives lay in the balance all because some mad man wanted to further his agenda? It certainly didn't seem fair. But he wouldn't dare suggest that.

''I told you all you wanted to know about NCIS. And now I am giving you all the intel we have on them.'' He stated calmly, trying to hide the anxious frustration he was feeling. ''If you are a man of your word, then my family will not be harmed.''

Kaiser seemed to consider that point for a few painful seconds. ''If I am a man of my word.'' He repeated quietly. He frowned in contemplation. ''I like to think I am. I would also like to think that you are as well. So where is it?''

He was obviously talking about the file Malachi had smuggled out of Israel and into Europe. It would've been too risky to use a simple memory stick, so he had to hide it on a small data chip. He lifted his arm up and pushed a little button on his silver wrist watch. This caused the whole clock face to pop open. Inside it was a tiny compartment; this held the valuable file that Kaiser was, for some reason, so keen to get his hands on.

''Very clever.'' The terrorist praised with a raised eyebrow. ''Heinrich, retrieve our friends watch. And be very careful.'' His tone, again, left no room for debate and his personal helper didn't seem up for one. He simply walked over and forcibly removed the watch without a single sound. ''Good that takes care of that.'' Kaiser sounded far from satisfied, though.

So was Malachi. ''Where are my family?'' He asked, perhaps a little angrily. ''I have done everything you asked. Let me speak to them, let me know they are safe and then you can do whatever you want with me.'' He knew walking out of the building was never an option. He'd now met Kaiser in person. He'd seen his face, heard his voice and even learned a few facts about him (albeit insignificant ones). There was no way he'd be allowed to live.

His enemy didn't react in any way to the demands. He simply stared into the Israeli's dark eyes with a cold and blank expression. ''You _have_ done what I asked.'' He agreed monotonously. ''You have given me what I wanted. That was all I required from you in order to save your flesh and blood.''

Malachi felt a sudden influx of hope. Were his family going to be safe? That was all he wanted to achieve with this suicide mission.

''You told me everything you knew about Special Agent Gibbs and his team from your personal experience of working with them.'' Kaiser continued. ''Right down to what type of coffee they drink.''

Malachi nodded. Was that this guy's way of being impressed by the information provided?

''Thanks to you, the team responsible for temporarily neutralizing my influence on the Eastern seaboard has been…taken care of.''

He assumed that meant they were dead. The Mossad agent took a moment to pray for the souls of the people whose lives he'd just ruined. Guilty wasn't a strong enough word for how he felt, but he had no choice.

''Or so I thought.'' Kaiser's tone then darkened, and something akin to rage shone in his eyes. ''It turns out my new chemical formula never found its way into your old colleague's bloodstream. You told me David got her coffee from the same place as her male companions.''

Malachi was now slightly confused, but mostly petrified. Those eyes were making his skin crawl. ''She does. I can assure you-''

He was abruptly cut off by the sound of glass shattering. Kaiser had smashed his pint glass against the table in another sudden outburst of violence. Glass fragments and Guiness flew everywhere. The four other men in the room didn't seem to bat an eyelid. ''No more lies!'' He shouted with a suddenly redder face. ''You wanted to protect her? You thought you'd get away with leaving out the little details? Like how David buys her friends' coffee in one place, and gets herself tea somewhere else. Or how the team have a world class forensic scientist working for them. Or how the CIA actually had an entire file on my organization. ''

''I had no idea any of this-''

''And as if that wasn't enough!'' Kaiser raised his voice another octave. ''You actually sent her a warning message!? You really thought we could not trace your e-mail account? All you needed to do was follow my instructions.'' Blood was now running down his hand from the cuts caused by the shattered glass.

''I do not know what you are talk-''

Malachi got no further before Kaiser had stood up and slammed his hands down with a deafening thump. ''You have failed!'' He bellowed, before continuing in an unnervingly calmer tone. ''You have failed your family. All because you were unwilling to tell the whole truth. ''

''No. I promise you I told you everything I knew!'' The Israeli was starting to sound desperate now. ''Please don't let my family suffer because of what I did or did not do.''

Kaiser stared down at him with a blank expression, but his cheeks were still red with rage. ''Believe me, Mr Ben-Gidon, a lot of people are about to suffer because of you.''

That comment sent a chill to Malachi's very bones. The worst thing was, he believed it. He truly believed that this crazy son of a bitch was about to do something big. Something that would result in a lot of families, not just his, being destroyed.

Before the Mossad agent had a chance to give another desperate plea for mercy on his family, Kaiser lifted his chair and smashed it across the Israeli's shocked face. Before Malachi even knew what was happening, he was flat on his back. One of his eyes was already swollen shut and all he could see through the other one was his own blood and the cold eyes of his foe looking down at him. The psychotic terrorist planted a knee on his throat and grabbed his chin to make sure his face stayed in line with the scarred canvas of evil.

''You have served your purpose, Malachi.'' He said slowly, and with no emotion. ''You knew how this would end.''

He did. But was too busy being choked to death to take in these words. He tried to think of his family. Of their beautiful faces and their infectious smiles. These images helped numb the pain in his neck. But the end he wanted never came. Kaiser lifted his weight from Malachi's throat and, before the Israeli could even start gasping for air, he felt a cold and sharp sting on his gums and tongue as the bottom half of the shattered pint glass was shoved into his mouth. The last thing he saw was his enemy standing over him with his boot raised directly over the base of the glass.

One stomp, one loud crunch, and it was all over.

After a few moments of nothing but Kaiser's heavy breathing being heard in the room, he turned away from the man he'd just savagely murdered and gestured for his suit jacket to be returned. It was passed to him and he slid back into it as he made his way back to the door he originally entered through.

''Pay Noel double for this mess.'' He said calmly. ''I may have got a bit…carried away. I just hate spies. They always try to trick you. It is most irritating.''

His ever-vigilant guard once again opened the door for him but, just before he made his exit, he turned back to face his current second in command. ''And tell the lot in Turkey to release the Ben-Gidon family.'' He ordered sternly. ''I _am_ a man of my word after all.''

And with that, he turned and left. He had a new poker table to sit at, and this match was with the elites. These opponents were powerful. But they were, once again, restricted by rules. He was about to show the agencies of America how to truly win the game.

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 **Hope you enjoyed that. I know it's all been sheer build-up so far, but promise some certain...showdowns will be happening soon. I was going to warn you about the graphic violence at the end, but thought it would shock you more if it was a bit of a surprise. I just wanted you guys to see what our heroes were up against. Kaiser is you're run-of-the-mill psycho villain. I know I have no imagination ssshhh. And know it may have seemed a bit OOC for Malachi, but I needed someone with a connection to the NCIS team. Cheers for reading and stay tuned for chapter 5 (which will be back with in the NCIS family.)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's chappy 5. A lot of stuff is thrown at you here, so if you are confused then sorry. But everything will be cleared up and explained (hopefully) better as the fic goes on. Hope you enjoy and thanks for all the encouraging reviews.**

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''Hallucinogenic?''

Ziva's stomach dropped. She hoped that, when Gibbs sent her down to find out 'what Abby had' on the chemical concoction currently infecting her co-workers' heads, she might hear good news. That her Gothic friend might reassure her that the effects would wear off after a few days or perhaps even have a clue as to how to cure this crazy disease. Tony and McGee were both completely and utterly hopeless after their little drinking session last night. The combination of being horribly loopy _and_ hung-over seemed to have completely fried their already struggling brains. She'd barely heard a peep out of them after she'd woken them up earlier that morning. But what little they'd managed to vocalize never appeared to be hallucination related. If that meant the worst was yet to come, then Ziva may well have begun having nervous breakdowns by the end of the week.

''Yeah. It looks like it might be PCP. Quite a lot of it'' Abby informed her in a worried tone. ''Have the guys sad anything about tripping?''

Ziva's brow furrowed. ''Well, Tony did trip up over his step into the living room this morning.'' She answered seriously. ''But I fail to see-''

''No, not tripping as in falling.'' Abby explained with a small smile. ''Tripping as in like…seeing pink elephants or thinking you're being chased by a giant vegetable.''

Now the Israeli was even more confused. ''What does that have to do with your feet?''

''It doesn't. _Hallucinations_ , Ziva.''

Oh, now she got it. Not really, though. ''I see. Were those examples you just gave from your own personal experiences of… _tripping_?''

Abby held her hand to her chest in mock offence. ''No! I would never do drugs, Ziva. They were just some stereotypical examples. Have you not seen like _any_ junkie movies?''

''I am not familiar with that franchise. Tony has never even mentioned it.''

The forensic scientist sighed in defeat. ''You know what? It doesn't matter.'' She stated in a more serious voice. ''Have our boys said anything?''

Ziva contemplated that for a few seconds before shaking her head with a frustrated glare. ''No, they have not mentioned anything like that. But that either means it has not begun yet or that it has, but they are in no state to describe it.''

Abby winced. ''I wish there was a third option. One where our friends are all better and this awful man is in jail.''

Yes, so did Ziva. This 'awful man' was still out there, though, and the name Kaiser was not exactly much to go on. The sole survivor of the small branch of The Black Sails that NCIS had busted last week was currently being interrogated in prison by Gibbs. If the team leader could work his magic and get some more intel to work with, then they may just be one step closer to finding this guy. She just hoped his minion wasn't loyal enough to hold back on them.

''Me too.'' She agreed quietly. ''What about the rest of the chemicals? Is there anything more harmful than PCP?''

She actually held her breath as Abby tried to find an answer for that. What she really wanted to ask was if there was anything that causes permanent damage, but she was genuinely too scared of the potential answer to that.

Abby sighed heavily. That couldn't be good. ''I don't know.'' She confessed with a whine. ''I hate not knowing. I gotta put major Maspec back to work.'' She said as she turned back to machine in question. ''You get out there and kick some butt, Ziva.''

''I will certainly try.'' She assured her with nod. ''Just call me if you find anything.''

''It's not an if, It's a _when._ '' The Goth called out with a sure voice as Ziva left the lab and headed for the elevator. As she hit the up button, she had to smile to herself at her colleague's usual optimism. But she supposed it was justified to be confident. She knew Abby would find _something,_ she just hoped it wasn't something heart breaking. Looking at McGee losing his mind was hard enough, but when she witnessed her partner - someone she admittedly loved beyond all reason – going mad, it nearly brought her to tears. It had only been two days of this torture but it was already becoming unbearable. She stepped off of the elevator and back into the orange glow of the bullpen. Her boss had seemingly returned, and was sat behind his desk with a distant look of frustration in his eyes. She didn't need any vocal confirmation to know his interrogation with their one and only suspect went badly. Her heart sank, but she would never assume.

''Did Khalif talk?'' She asked hopefully as she sat down at her own desk.

Gibbs sighed in apparent defeat. ''He's dead.''

Great. She guessed that was a 'no' then. ''How?''

His face contorted into a rare canvas of disbelief. ''He had a cyanide capsule hidden in his damn tooth. Waited for me to go talk to him before he killed himself. Probably some kind of message.''

Yes, Ziva agreed with that. Terrorists who were particularly dedicated to protecting their leaders often found a way to off themselves before they could give away any information. In this case it was a clear sign that Kaiser commanded a loyal if not sane army of followers. That was another deflating fact to add the collection.

''Wow.'' She responded in annoyed surprise. ''They must either be terrified of their leader or simply love him.''

Gibbs hummed in agreement. ''Ducky's got the autopsy. Is he here yet?''

Ziva shook her head, but didn't look away from her computer as she logged into it. ''No. He is still at Tony's watching the guys.''

''Abby find anything?''

The Israeli almost gave herself a head slap. How could she have forgotten to update her boss? That was probie behavior. ''Yes.'' She replied a little too enthusiastically, considering the bad news. ''She has identified one of the chemicals as PCP. Or, at least, a hallucinogenic similar to it.''

His face went stony after hearing that. Clearly the idea of his team suffering the symptoms of a drug like that wasn't a pleasant one for him, either. She knew his next question before he even had a chance to voice it.

''The boys have not said anything about hallucinations.'' She assured him. ''But that doesn't mean it will not happen.''

Gibbs sighed heavily again. ''Warn Ducky about it.'' He ordered with a quiet sternness. ''If DiNozzo starts shooting at random objects, it'll provide an explanation.''

Ziva smiled slightly as she pictured her partner getting hostile with imaginary enemies. Given his line of work, and the fact he watched too many movies, it wouldn't be all that surprising if his subconscious projected images of bond villains or old fashioned crooks. Her smile fell though, as she realized he had plenty of bad memories when it came to his experiences with _real_ enemies over his life. What if these potential hallucinations tormented him? She knew he had more than enough demons to contend with after a lifetime of seeing death and fighting crime. What if the every awful thing he'd ever been through was locked away deep inside his mind and this drug released them into the forefront of it? That would definitely be the case for her if she was in Tony's shoes.

''Perhaps I should drop in and check on them myself.'' She offered softly. ''Poor Ducky must be going crazy himself by now.''

Before Gibbs could agree or disagree, his attention switched to the foot of the stairs. The reason behind this was the fact that Vance and Fornell were both marching towards the bullpen with a seemingly new-found purpose. Ziva could see a glint of hope in her boss' eyes, and felt a wave of it pass through her as well. Could they have a new development? Could they have anything to make this case actually workable?

''David.'' Vance yelled authoritatively. ''Check your emails. Right now.''

She was actually just about to sign in and check her inbox, but was now a little bit skeptical as to what she might find. ''Why?'' She asked with shocked curiosity.

''Just do it.'' The director ordered again.

Gibbs was now on his feet and almost squaring up to his boss. ''Any reason why you're barking orders at a member of _my_ team, Leon?''

Vance met Gibbs' steely glare with slightly narrowed eyes. ''Yes, there's a damn good reason.'' He explained, with an angry tinge to his words. ''Just spoke to Director Elbaz in MTAC. Apparently Officer Ben-Gidon has gone missing.''

''Malachi?'' Ziva asked with a furrowed brow.

Gibbs didn't seem too convinced with that explanation. ''So? He's Mossad, Leon. It happens.''

Vance nodded in agreement. ''I know it does. But his wife and kids turned up in Tel Aviv claiming they'd just been abducted for four days.''

Ziva felt a pang of guilt about not knowing her old colleague had settled down and had a family despite still being at Mossad. That was a hell of an achievement, but also a hell of a risk. You made plenty of enemies as a spy and if they ever found out you had a weakness, they would try and exploit it. Family was the biggest weakness of them all for a Mossad operative.

''Elbaz just warned us that Ben-Gidon's last known activities were downloading the Mossad file on NCIS,'' Vance added before turning to Ziva. ''and sending you an email.''

Fornell entered the conversation for the first time. ''Ben-Gidon obviously had his hands tied by whoever had his family.'' He said calmly. ''We all know someone who has a certain fixation on your agency at the moment.'' He turned to Gibbs, who was still looking impatient to hear more. ''If Kaiser didn't already know everything about your team, Gibbs, he does now.''

''Yeah? Well we know nothing about him, Tobias.'' The silver haired ex-marine half yelled. ''Ziva, what did Malachi say to you?''

He moved round to behind Ziva's desk as she tried to focus on her inbox and not the sheer disbelief and horror she felt at hearing this latest development. Indeed, there was an unchecked email from a protected source. She opened it as her adrenaline levels spiked. The message was short, but spoke volumes:

 _Dear Ziva, I am sorry for what I have done. I have betrayed everything that we both stand for. You must understand that I had no choice. I would never let my family come to harm. This man knows what he's doing. Do not underestimate his influence, even in DC. He is powerful and seems to have allies everywhere. Do not trust any coffee or takeout food you buy, he uses it to poison and drug his enemies. I will most likely be dead when you are reading this, but I pray my family is not. You once told me that apologizing is a sign of weakness but I have already shown too much weakness to be redeemed. I am so sorry, Ziva. Malachi._

The stab of betrayal she felt was merged with the sympathy and understanding she couldn't fight off. It must have been horrendously hard for him to do what he did, but that didn't change the fact that he had still essentially given Kaiser the key to NCIS. She put the screenshot of the message up on the big screen for all to see.

''Son of a bitch.'' Vance muttered under his breath.

''Poor bastard.'' Fornell said, a little louder. ''What exactly is on Mossad's NCIS file?'' He asked, His question was aimed at no one in particular.

''Enough to be worried about.'' Vance answered. ''Ben-Gidon's worked with us before, so he most likely provided any other personal details he'd picked up about the team.''

''Has Kaiser used these kind of tactics before?'' The FBI man asked. Before realizing no one present knew anything about the man in question. ''Where the hell's Kort? He should be here for this.''

Everyone seemed to look at each other with a knowing look and a small shrug. ''God only knows.'' Gibbs answered.

Before any more could be discussed Gibbs' cell phone started ringing. Strangely, Ziva's started buzzing just a few seconds after he answered. It was Tony's number. She flipped her phone open with a careful 'hello' as she kept an eye on Gibbs' face as he listened to his own device.

'' _Ziva?''_ Her partner sounded breathless, and the background noise suggested he was running somewhere on the streets. _''Ziva, they're after me. I'm on the run but they're closing in.''_ He managed to squeeze out through his heavy panting.

She was both confused and concerned. ''Who is after you, Tony? Where are you?''

'' _No time to explain. Just help me…please.''_

He sounded terrified, and that had her on her feet with a wide eyed expression of surprise. But before she could question him further, he hung up. She was grabbing her gun and badge before she was even aware of it. She had almost forgotten about the other people in the room, two of which were looking at her expectantly.

''That was Ducky.'' Gibbs announced with sudden urgency after he hung up from his own conversation. ''Says DiNozzo ran off five minutes ago with his gun drawn.''

''He just called me.'' Ziva informed him with a slightly wavering voice. ''Apparently someone is chasing him. He sounded scared and panicked.''

Gibbs tilted his head and aimed a stern glare of worry in her direction. ''Go.'' He ordered. ''I'll get Abby to track his cell.''

Without needing further instructions, Ziva shot out of the bullpen and towards the stairs. She left a confused looking FBI agent, a poker-faced NCIS director and her determined boss behind as she more or less jumped down each set of steps. Tony was in trouble. Whether this danger was real or imaginary was irrelevant, she needed to help him. Her brain had just been bombarded with new scary information about ex-Mossad colleagues and powerful international terrorists, but she needed to put all that to one side and focus on her role as Tony's partner. She just hoped he wouldn't make himself hard to find.

 **...**

Tony was sure he saw him. He was standing in the apartment's doorway. The senior field agent wouldn't be doing his job if he didn't go after him. He had actually been thinking quite clearly when it happened. He was sat on his couch with McGee, trying to figure out where that strange buzzing sound was coming from. Ducky was adamant that there was no noise, but the very special agent could definitely here it. It was like a bee was flying around his head. This didn't fail to distract him from the intruder silently entering his apartment. When he finally saw this unwelcome guest, he froze in shock.

It was Bodnar. The scumbag that killed Ziva's dad. He was supposed to be dead, though, wasn't he? His ninja partner kicked his ass. So why did DiNozzo manage to chase him through his apartment building and out onto the street? It didn't matter at the time; he just needed to get the bastard. For Ziva.

He didn't expect to round a corner and end up in a sandy desert cell. How the hell did he get here? That didn't matter either, because there were about ten faceless, but heavily armed, men surrounding him. He felt his blood boil as he saw Saleem emerge from the crowd of foes. The slimy creep was standing over an unknown captive tied up in a chair. They had a sack over their head. This felt strangely familiar, but Tony still couldn't remember whose face was under that bag. At least, not until Saleem ripped it off and revealed a bruised and defeated Ziva.

She asked him why he was there. _Good damn question_ , he thought. What was even happening? How was he supposed to help her escape? Where the hell did Bodnar go? He didn't have time to find these answers, though, because now she was telling him to run. To run fast. He couldn't leave her here. Right? That's never worked before. The armed ghosts were now bearing down on him, and he found himself sprinting away before any further contemplation could take place. He left the dusty air of the desert and somehow found himself running through a forest. This was more like it. He liked this place, but still wasn't out of the woods yet (literally and figuratively). These guys were on him.

He had no idea where he was trying to go, but he needed help. Where was Gibbs? He needed to call him. As the yards added up, he reached into his pocket and speed dialed the bossman's number but it was apparently busy. Damn it. He found himself dialing Ziva's number without even thinking about it. To his relief she answered. She must have escaped from Saleem's camp then. That saved him from having to ask her about that, at least. He quickly updated her on what was happening, and asked her to help him. She sounded confused, but he knew she'd find him. He hung up and returned his phone to his pocket.

When he turned around to look for the men on his tail, he was actually unsurprised to see that the scenery had changed once again. He was in a warehouse district of some kind, and he could just _feel_ his enemies approaching. This area was familiar as well, but he couldn't recollect why. He definitely had a shootout here in the past, a long time ago, but he had no idea what it was about. His lungs burned as he made a beeline for the nearest warehouse door and ended up darting up a flight of stairs. If he could just get to the rooftop, he could… He could what, exactly? He didn't care; he just had to get up there.

He slammed through the door at the top of the stairs after what felt like hours of painful ascension. He expected to see the skyline but was instead met by the sight of Ziva's apartment. As he ran into her kitchen, a familiar face greeted him. It was Rivkin. That sneaky, deceitful rat was actually aiming a gun at him. Tony didn't hesitate to raise his own Sig, which had been in his hand the whole time, and shot his Israeli nemesis in the head. It was a kill-shot, and a good one. But as he approached still body, the dead man's face had changed. Holy crap, that was _Kate_ he'd just shot. His old partner was lying there with a hole in her head and pool of blood spreading over the ground.

What had he done? Why was she even there? His head throbbed with agonizing pain as his vision went blurry. He heard someone behind him call out his name, but he couldn't recognize their voice. Slowly he turned around, only to see the cockily evil face of Ari Haswari wryly smiling back at him. No, _that_ was who shot Kate. He must have never been caught in the end. Or maybe he was, because he had a weird looking patch over his left eye. He'd seen that patch before, but where? Could that have been where Ari was shot by Gibbs? Perhaps the wound never actually killed him. Ziva's cold-blooded half brother started saying something after a few seconds. It seemed to be in a British accent, though. Tony could have sworn he didn't sound like that. The words leaving his mouth never reached the large DiNozzo ears, though. They were drowned out by the intense sound of drumming in his head. It was as if a marching band were stampeding through his brain, an endless line of drummers getting louder with every step they took. It was agony.

He covered his ears and screamed up to the heavens as it all became too hard to live with. This whole sequence of events had his heart beating at a dangerously fast level. He felt a heavy thump to the side of his head as everything faded to black.

 **...**

Ziva arrived at her apartment block about ten minutes after she'd been informed Tony was heading in that direction. She'd driven even more recklessly than usual as she battled the traffic as well as all the panic she was feeling. Worry didn't quite do justice to what she felt. He had ran all the way from his place to hers. If he was really being chased all that way, he may have had a heart attack before any of his pursuers could catch him. What on earth had made him travel this huge distance?

She ran straight into the building and into the elevator. Waiting for Gibbs and Fornell to arrive would've been too time consuming. She stepped out of the metal box, rounded the corner and approached the corridor where her apartment was located. Her gut twisted at the sight of a still body laying outside her door. It wasn't Tony, but whoever it was had been shot twice in the chest and once in the head. They were very, very dead.

Her gun was drawn and her heart was just about exploding as she swept through her already open door and into her living room. On her couch laid Tony. He looked unconscious and had a nasty bruise blossoming on his temple. Her stomach dropped at the sight, but his chest was moving up and down as he breathed. So he was a lot more alive than the stranger outside. She resisted her instinctive urge to run to his aid, because she needed to clear the rest of the place. The kitchen was as far as she got, though, because that's where she found herself frozen to the spot with her trigger finger twitching.

There was another dead body on the tiles. Just one bullet this time, right in the forehead. Her attention moved quickly from the fresh carcass, however, as she pointed her gun at the one-eyed bald man stood at the counter beside the fridge.

''Relax, Agent David.'' Kort implored in a typically arrogant tone. He was helping himself to a glass of milk. ''I've cleared the building.''

She was not willing to oblige him any time soon, though. ''You will tell me what the hell is going on, or I will add to the body count.''

He still hadn't looked at her since her arrival. He instead seemed to be inspecting the carton he'd just opened. ''This is full-fat milk.'' He pointlessly stated.

Ziva's patience was wearing thin. Her glare somehow turned even more intense. ''I am warning you. You have broken into my apartment, I can shoot you for trespassing.''

''Your partner got here before me.'' He told her as he finally turned to look her way. ''But the man bleeding all over you kitchen floor was the one who actually broke in.''

''Who is he?''

Kort's expression suggested he didn't know the answer to that. ''Well the dead body in the hallway was DiNozzo's tail. I'm presuming this one was yours.''

She finally lowered her gun but remained completely on edge. She'd never trusted this guy. ''I was not aware we had anyone following us.'' She was actually hoping for further explanation, and wasn't disappointed.

''I had a feeling that Kaiser had eyes on you lot.'' He explained after another sip of his drink. ''He seems to know a lot about your team. It only seemed logical.''

The strength of her glare was actually starting to hurt her eyes. ''And you decided not to share this…idea with anyone else?''

He shrugged. ''I thought it would easier to simply stake out DiNozzo's apartment and see what…caught my eye.''

''And what did catch your eye?'' She asked carefully.

He looked like he was fighting back a smile. ''Your dear partner running out onto the street with his gun drawn.'' He explained, somehow with no hint of amusement. ''And then a motorcycle driver pulling out and following him from a distance. Naturally, I pursued the pursuer.''

Okay, it was all starting to add up now. That explained why Tony thought he was being chased. ''I assume this motorcycle driver is the man in the hallway?''

Kort nodded. ''Very clever.'' He sarcastically praised.

''So why is Tony unconscious on my couch?''

He gulped down the rest of his milk and placed the glass back down with a thud. ''That may have something to do with the fact that I knocked him out and put him there.'' His tone suggested this was a perfectly acceptable action, and that any elaboration was unnecessary.

Ziva disagreed somewhat. ''So, you decided that killing two men was not enough for you? Was punching Tony in the face a prospect you simply could not resist?''

He chuckled at that. Clearly he had no regrets about hitting Tony, but she could tell it was a blow designed to knock him out rather than just hurt him. ''I may have enjoyed it more than I should have. But it was actually an act of sympathy. He was completely delirious. He even started screaming at one stage. I think his mind was playing tricks on him. Didn't stop him from taking out your local burglar, though.''

So _Tony_ had killed this man? It was unlike him to execute a suspect without any provocation. ''So you think that this man was just snooping around in my home?''

''Seems that way.''

''How many shots did you hear?'' She quizzed sternly.

''Just the one.''

Tony _did_ shoot first then. Ziva was about to throw a few more questions in Kort's direction, but was hit by the sudden realization that she still hadn't checked on her partner since she'd arrived at this crazy scene. She abruptly turned away and left the kitchen again to rush to Tony's side. He was breathing, but it sounded labored. The stupidly long run he'd gone on to get to her apartment would have been murder on his plague-scarred lungs. She reached out and gently cupped his cheek. What was happening in that head of his? He must have been so confused and scared by the events of the day. Normally, he was always in control. He would know exactly how to react in any given situation. But this was far from normal. He sounded terrified on the phone, and there's no way he'd ever usually just run for miles without any real reason behind it. Her heart broke at seeing him go through this.

She heard distant sirens in the streets and approaching footsteps coming from the hallway outside the door. That would be Gibbs and Fornell. They would have plenty of questions to ask. Ziva honestly still had an endless amount of inquiries herself about this whole thing. But, for now, she kept her attention on her partner's peaceful looking face. He would have to try and answer the inevitable onslaught of interrogatives when he woke up. She just hoped he was able to provide these answers with some clarity.

* * *

 **There we are. Some actual action. As you probably gathered, Tony was hallucinating for that whole running section. If it didn't make any sense, then I guess that's because it kind of wasn't meant to. His was tripping major balls after all. Thanks for sticking with this silly little story and stay tuned for number six.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay. I had a hard time trying to write this one. I think you'll like it though. Hope you enjoy**

* * *

The only feeling Tony could acknowledge after he woke up was pain. A dull ache on the left side of his head accompanied a sharp sting in his lungs whenever he drew breath. Clearly whatever chain of events led to his current visit, to what he assumed was a hospital, had taken their toll on his body. He felt like hell. After further consideration, he realized that this agony was the _only_ thing that seemed out of place. His vision was clear, his mind was relatively focused and he felt genuinely sober for the first time in a few days. Had the effects worn off? He would probably have jumped up and punched the air with joy if he felt even slightly more mobile. This apparent return to sanity still didn't jog his memory enough to help him remember why he was in hospital, though. But he guessed that information could easily be provided, so decided to just try and bask in this new mental clarity.

He looked around the room, hoping to maybe see a colleague or a nurse who could update him on…well, everything that had happened over the last couple of days. He was disappointed, and somewhat offended, when he discovered that no one was accompanying him in his time of distress. He half expected to see Ziva's special _angry but also concerned_ face staring back at him when he rotated his head, but that wasn't the case. Not one friend or coworker was there to watch over him. Although, he supposed they were all quite busy people. They could very well have struggled to find the time to visit him whilst working this case. They had a terrorist to catch, after all. Or had they caught him yet? Tony realized he literally knew nothing about how the case was going. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been unconscious in a hospital bed. How much had he actually missed?

He didn't have time to add any more questions to his ever-growing list, though, because man wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard swept into the room. This must have been the doctor. Maybe he could help shed some light on this whole situation.

''Good to see you awake, Mr DiNozzo.'' He stated in what sounded to Tony like a Texan accent. He placed a cup of water on the bedside table. ''Please. Drink up. You must be thirsty.''

Come to think of it, he was parched. He took a few healthy swigs of the water. This particular Mr DiNozzo was in no mood for pleasantries, though, so he got straight down to business without even saying thank you. ''What's going on, Doc?'' He asked sternly. ''I haven't done something dumb have I?''

The Doc in question chuckled. ''Maybe.'' He replied, but in a light tone. ''They ain't told me much. But you're alive and well, so it can't have been that bad. It looks like the last bit of this strange drug has left your system now.''

Tony leaned his head back and sighed in relief. ''Thank God.''

His fellow conversationalist hummed in agreement. ''Your girlfriend will be happy.''

''Girlfriend?''

The doctor still didn't look up from his chart as he casually continued speaking. ''I assumed Miss David was more than just your partner. Did I wrongfully assume?''

Oh yes, she was definitely more than _just_ a partner. He would need to write a damn book to explain the complications of their relationship, though. There was no way he was even trying to begin this discussion with this stranger. ''It's complicated.'' He pointedly explained.

''Oh, I bet it is.'' The medical expert said with a smile. ''She's hardly left your side.''

Tony's heart squeezed at that particular new fact.

''You're lucky to have a connection as strong as that.'' The doc continued. ''You must have a real tight-knit team at NCIS.''

Tony almost smiled as he considered that. Tight-knit? Absolutely. They were his family. He never really understood the concept of a _real_ family until he'd met Gibbs. There would never be a worthy way to express his gratitude for the role each and every one of his closest co-workers played in his life. Hell, Ziva alone was just about as important as his own organs when it came to survival these days. 'Lucky' was the understatement of the year. ''Yeah.'' He agreed, with a distant look in his eyes.

''They all seem very determined to catch whoever poisoned you.''

''Is that why none of them are here?'' He already knew it was the reason, but he hated not knowing exactly where his team was and what sort of danger, if any, they were in. If they couldn't visit him because they were too busy getting in shoot-outs or car chases, then his restlessness would reach maximum overdrive in a heartbeat. Never sit on the sidelines when your guys are in trouble.

To his relief, the doctor reassured him. ''Probably. Don't be too disappointed, Agent DiNozzo. This is first time they've left you alone for nearly twenty four hours.''

''So that's how long I've been out, huh?''

''Give or take.''

Okay. That wasn't _too_ long. But, really, he'd kind of been 'out' since the start of the week, hadn't he? God, he desperately needed to be read-in on the case. Where was his cell phone?

''You should be out of here today.'' The doc assured him. ''I'll give you some painkillers for the head.'' He produced a small jar of the painkillers in question, before placing them beside the cup of water on the table. He turned away and started walking back towards the door.

''Thanks.'' Tony called out with a furrowed brow. ''What did you say your name was, doc?''

That statement seemed to stop the man in his tracks, just as he was reaching for the door handle. He spun around and met DiNozzo's eyes for the first time. This allowed the NCIS agent to finally examine the doctor's face properly. Tony failed to notice much more than the deep blue eyes he found himself staring into. Something about them made every cell in his body freeze over with a nervy chill.

The only other feature worth taking note of was the long, dark scar decorating the right hand side of his poker-faced opponent.

''I didn't.'' The scarred man replied. His accent now sounded foreign, and had no trace of Texan in it whatsoever. ''I'll be monitoring your progress, Mr DiNozzo.'' His change of voice coincided with a sudden darkening of his tone.

And with that, the mysterious man left the room. Tony's gut was suddenly sending warning signals to his brain. There was something about that guy that just seemed…off. Was he just imagining the change in demeanor? Maybe his mind still wasn't one hundred percent recovered. The sooner he got out of the hospital, and back to NCIS, the better.

 **….**

Ziva was ever so slightly frustrated. Running background searches on two petty criminals was never going to scratch the (admittedly violent) itch she'd had all day. They were on the two dead bodies Tony and Kort had so kindly supplied the previous day. She had originally hoped that Ducky's autopsies would reveal a priceless piece of information that would conveniently point them in the direction of Kaiser. Given the nature of how this week had gone so far, it shouldn't have surprised her that this ideal scenario never played out. It turns out that these dead men didn't even have any clear connections to each other, let alone the Black Sails or its elusive leader. One was from Turkey and other was from Australia. They were both wanted in their respective countries, and plenty of others as well, but nothing in either of their records suggested they were terrorists. Kaiser obviously used expendable dirt bags to do the most basic of his dirty work.

After seemingly endless hours being spent sat behind her desk with no company and no helpful progress being made, she couldn't help but feel restless. She was still convinced that this was probie work. Leaving Tony alone in the hospital was becoming increasingly regretful in the Israeli's mind. They'd been informed that the drugs appeared to be leaving his system, but she still wasn't sure his brain power was simply going to be back to its full capacity. He should really wake up to a familiar face. However, Gibbs' orders were clear, and she admittedly agreed with his view that time was too valuable to be spent doing anything but work right now. That didn't stop her feeling guilty about abandoning her partner, though. If she was truly honest with herself, she just wanted personal confirmation that he really had shaken off the horrific effects of the chemical concoction their new foe had decided to showcase. She could then allow herself to fully enjoy the relief she felt that he wasn't permanently damaged.

She decided a break was in order. Not to mention a snack. The vending machine sounded like a decent source of relief for her grumbling stomach, so she went about making her way to the break room. After arriving at her destination, she reluctantly poured herself a cup of the so-called coffee that was always on offer there. She'd just paid for a candy bar, (okay, maybe two candy bars), when a familiar but unexpected voice greeted her ears.

''There you are.'' Tony said with a sigh of relief. ''Where the hell is everybody?''

Ziva span around with shock. ''Tony? I thought you were meant to stay in hospital for another day?''

''Doctor Who said I was free to go.'' He explained with smile.

Her brow furrowed. ''I did not speak to a Doctor Hu. It was your friend, Brad Pitt, who insisted you remain under his watchful eye. But I suppose his shift had to end at some point.''

''What?'' He asked with a confused expression. ''No, his name wasn't Hu as in the Asian surname. Who as in Doctor _Who_. You know, the British sci-fi series? No one knows the Doctor's name.''

She threw her hands up in defeat. ''I am completely lost. Who signed your release forms?''

''There was no Hu! The guy didn't give me his name.''

Her palm firmly met her forehead. ''Okay.'' She said calmly. ''Let's just…start again. You have been released from the hospital, yes?''

He nodded once. ''Fully recovered and raring to go.''

She took in a calming breath. ''Right. And the man that gave you permission to leave was not Dr Brad Pitt?''

''Nope.''

''And he did not give you any name whatsoever?''

He shook his head. ''Not even when I asked him.''

She hummed in disapproval. Tony seemed to be back to his usual self, but she would have preferred it if he was still being closely monitored by medical professionals and not wondering around on his own. Well, at least _she_ could keep any eye on him now.

''Where's the boss-man? And McGoo?'' He asked her curiously.

Her face fell slightly. ''Sit down with me for a minute.'' She gestured towards the table, before sliding into one of the chairs surrounding it. He followed suit and they found themselves sat right beside each other, maybe a bit too closely, as they often did in the relative privacy of the break room.

He looked at her with narrowed eyes. ''If you're just trying to get a closer look at me, then don't bother. I feel fine, Ziva.''

She held his gaze for a few peaceful moments. There certainly seemed to be a lot more focus in his eyes, and he definitely looked like his usual self. Not to mention the fact that her heart rate was spiking in that familiar way that she always felt when she found herself in his close presence. That had also been absent over the course of this week so far, and she hadn't even realized how much she actually missed it.

''You certainly seem…fine.'' She affirmed softly.

His trademark charmer's grin lit up his face. ''Am I meant to be hearing the double entendre there? Because you look pretty good yourself, sweetcheeks.''

She treated him to one of her rare, full smiles at that comment. Oh yes, this was the Tony she knew and loved. ''I have been up all night.'' She informed him. ''I am sure I look awful.''

His face became unexpectedly serious as he leaned forward and brushed a few loose curls behind her ear. ''You can never look awful in my eyes.''

There it goes again. Her heart just about exploded. If it was a more appropriate location, or if their relationship was more defined, she would have thrown herself at him right then and kissed him senseless. God, she wished they would just talk about that night in her apartment where she was allowed to do just that. Where a perfect evening of loving indulgence within each other's bodies had her eventually drifting off in his arms with a deeply joyful smile spread over her sleepy face. It had been over two weeks since that night, and they still hadn't even mentioned it. It must have meant something to him as well, so why wouldn't he bring it up? There had been plenty of chances to do so. Maybe he was just as terrified of how the conversation might unfold as she was.

She decided to go down the tried and tested route instead. ''Your mind must be playing tricks on you if you think I still look okay after being awake for nearly twenty four hours.'' She teased. ''Are you sure the hallucinations have stopped?''

His face visibly darkened at the exact same second she abruptly realized how insensitive her comment was. What was she thinking? She was well aware how terrifying that experience had been for him, and yet she still had to go and bring it up in such an inconsiderate manner. Where was the infamous Gibbs-slap when she needed it?

She reached over and rested her hand over his on the tabletop. ''I am sorry, Tony.'' She said, with her eyes closed in embarrassment and shame. ''That was-''

''It's okay.'' He interrupted quietly. He was looking away from her now and his face seemed to grow paler by the second. She had really screwed this up. She could see in his eyes that the memories were flooding back into him. Why did she always have to ruin his good moods?

''No, it is not okay.'' She corrected sternly. Any anger in her tone was aimed directly at herself, though. ''I have no idea what you went through and-''

''I thought it was a nightmare, you know.'' He interrupted her self-flagellation again. ''When I woke up earlier. At first, I just brushed it off as a bad dream.'' Her hand tightened around his in support as he smiled ruefully. ''But I knew there was no way I would be in hospital if I hadn't screwed up somehow. When the doctor mentioned drugs, I remembered what happened. It explained why everything in the nightmare felt so real. Only it wasn't a nightmare was it?''

She shook her head as the backs of her eyes burned with impending tears. ''No.'' She confirmed with a tight whisper.

He nodded slowly, before his own eyes began to grow misty. ''I saw so much, Ziva.''

Her chest grew tight with sympathy. She feared that the demons of his past would haunt him during any period of hallucination. His tone suggested that had been the case. ''You do not have to talk about it.'' She assured him.

''No, I think I do.'' He gently disagreed. ''I saw a lot of old faces. People who have hurt me- both of us- over the years. They're all dead. All of them were stopped, but I still saw them. Their faces were clear as day and…'' He shook his head and let out a deep, shaky breath. ''and honestly, I've never been more scared.''

She unconsciously leaned closer to him, hoping her presence would provide the comfort he needed. ''You are fine now.'' She reassured him. ''You are safe.''

He turned to meet her eyes again. ''I was back there at one stage, you know. He had you again. In that damn cell in the desert.''

Her stomach dropped as a dark chill spread threw her body. Tony didn't need to explain who 'he' was or what desert was being mentioned. That part of their long history never needed a clear introduction. It still haunted them both, and would probably do so until their dying day. But she knew that their collective strength had always stopped the memories of Somalia from overcoming them. She turned his hand and interlocked her fingers with his. He held on to her like a lifeline.

''We are both safe now, Tony.'' She reminded him softly. ''It is in the past. All of it is over.''

He let out another deep breath, but still didn't look fully convinced. ''I ended up seeing your apartment. Right before it all stopped.''

Oh crap, had no one told him? ''Tony, you really were in my apartment.'' She told him carefully. ''You ran all the way there from your place.''

His expression suggested he found that information as baffling as she did. ''Wow. Maybe I should of been a long distance runner. I clearly have the talent, and there'd be less terrorists after me that way.''

She hummed in agreement. ''I do not think many marathon runners pass out for a whole day after a long run, though.''

He winced. ''I passed out?'' He raised his free hand and pointed to the bruise on his temple. ''Did I get this from falling onto a table or something.''

Ziva felt guilty that she literally hadn't told him anything about the previous day at all. ''No, you have Trent Kort to thank for that.''

An angry look of trepidation etched over his face. ''What the hell was Kort doing in your apartment?'' He asked, with a mixture of rage and genuine curiosity.

''Following you, apparently.''

He grunted in disapproval. ''Is he trying to blow me up again? 'Cause I can't afford to lose any more cars.''

She tried her best to fight off the smirk that was threatening to surface. ''He is helping us catch Kaiser. The CIA are the only ones who seem know anything about him.''

Tony rolled his eyes at that. ''Of course they are.'' He said flatly. ''Wait, who's Kaiser?''

''The man who poisoned you and McGee. He leads the terrorist cell.'' She explained. ''Have you not picked up on anything since Monday?''

His brow furrowed. ''Obviously not. So Keyser Soze's behind this, huh?''

''Soze? You know this man's real name?'' She asked, a blend of hopeful and confused feelings spreading through her.

''No.'' He replied surely. ''It's just weird, you know? The elusive bad guy in The Usual Suspects has the same name as _our_ bad guy. Well, at least, the Keyser part anyway. Tell me, is our new nemesis of Turkish descent?'' He asked in his best version of an exotic accent.

''Not that we know of.'' She answered honestly. ''All the files say his chosen name is spelt the same way as the German word for Emperor. We have no idea whether he comes from there or not, though.''

Tony raised his eyebrows. ''I've got a lot of catching up to do.''

She smiled and nodded in agreement. ''I am just glad you are back to your normal self. I have missed you.'' Her smile was an attempt to hide just how true her admission actually was.

He must have read the underlying emotion in her tone though, because his face softened as he gently started stroking her hand with his thumb. ''I'm back now.'' He assured her softly. ''I'm not leaving you to face this on your own anymore.''

She smiled with what may well have been sheer relief. She really needed to hear that. She never expected that even only half a week spent without him there to support her would be so exhausting and hard. She ran her free hand up his cheek and stopped with her fingers hovering just over his dark bruise. His eyes closed momentarily at her feather light touch.

''Just promise me you will stop running between our apartments and scaring yourself to death.'' She implored quietly. ''I do not want to see you hurt again.'' This time, there was no attempt to hide the sincerity in her honest confession. They both cared a great deal for each other's well-being. They didn't bother hiding it these days.

He held her gaze with a suddenly heavy look. ''That's the first time I've been to your place since…''

He trailed off, but she knew exactly what he was talking about and, thanks to sudden flipping of her stomach, she knew when he was referring to. ''Since that night.'' She managed to finish his sentence, despite her throat closing with nervousness.

He sighed deeply. ''Yeah. _That_ night.'' He confirmed in what sounded like a sad and regretful tone as they both awkwardly avoided each other's eyes.

So there it was. It had finally been brought up. What now? Did Ziva try and explain exactly how she felt about that night? That it had been the happiest she'd felt in her entire adult life? And that it finally clarified her opinion on whether or not an exclusive relationship with Tony was what her heart really wanted? Because it was. She'd never felt more ready to give them a shot at being… _them._ But his apparent regret about the whole thing suggested he wasn't. Before she allowed her heart to fully break at the idea of her never getting the chance to be with the man she loved, his voice interrupted her darkening thoughts.

''You know, I've wanted to turn up at your door every night since then.'' His voice was thick, and she looked back up to his face to see nothing but honesty in his enchanting hazel eyes. ''I've wanted to see you and just… be with you every evening but…''

As he trailed off, realization hit her like a slap to the face. He didn't regret sleeping with her, he regretted doing nothing about it. He must have been going through the exact same struggle as she had been for the last fortnight. God, she was so stupid for not knowing it. ''Why didn't you talk to me about it?'' She asked in a hurt tone.

He shrugged slightly. ''I wasn't sure how you felt.'' He responded truthfully. ''I guess I was too scared of what you might say.'' She tilted her head and sent him a gently admonishing look. ''I'm a coward, I know.''

Ziva shook her head sternly. ''No you are not, Tony.'' She argued in somewhat shaky voice. ''We both just need to start being more honest with each other.''

His hand raised up to cup her cheek as he held her gaze with a look of complete and utter affection. ''Yeah.'' He agreed in a whisper. ''In that case…'' Before she could fully acknowledge the deep ache of pure love she felt in her chest, he gently ran his thumb over her cheek once, twice, three times before leaning in and softly placing his lips on hers. Needless to say, she kissed him back without hesitation and found herself lost in his touch. Both her hands found his face as one of his tunneled through her curly hair. She wasn't truly aware of how much she missed kissing him until this moment. It was slow, deliberate and utterly heart stopping. They should have resolved this a long time ago.

Their indulgence in the kiss was interrupted by someone behind them clearing their throat pointedly. They broke apart with terrified expressions before quickly turning around to see their unwelcomed spectator. It wasn't Gibbs. That was something, at least. But it was definitely the second worst person who could have walked in on them.

''Okay.'' Abby said with a raised hand and gaping mouth. ''The like…one billion questions I have about this are gonna have to wait. I've got something you guys might wanna see.'' She turned to lead them towards her lab, but span back around with a bright smile. ''And it's great to have you back, Tony, but don't expect me to give the same kind of welcome you got from Ziva.''

The two special agents smiled shyly, and awkwardly, in acknowledgment before their Gothic friend waved them in the direction of the elevators and walked back around the corner. They gave each other a worried look and gently squeezed their hands in support, before they both stood up and followed her. After a rather tense elevator ride, they stepped into the high-tech noise of the lab.

''While you guys were up there making out, I was making some big discoveries.'' Abby said in an excited tone.

''Hey!'' Tony shot back indignantly. ''It wasn't _making out,_ it was just-''

He was abruptly cut off by the back handed slap to the torso he received from Ziva, as well the sharp _shush_ coming from her mouth. ''What did you discover, Abby?''

''You know those prescription meds you keep in your kitchen for your bad shoulder?'' The forensic scientist asked.

She received a confused look from Tony as the Israeli's eyes drifted downwards in a clear sign of guilt. ''Yes.'' Ziva answered quietly.

''Wait, what meds?'' Tony asked. He turned to his partner with a furrowed brow. ''You never told me you still needed painkillers for your shoulder.''

''Does it matter?'' She responded rhetorically.

DiNozzo's didn't really _do_ rhetorical questions though. ''It does if you're still in pain.'' He answered as if it was obvious. ''You should have told me. What if you need surgery or something?''

''The doctors assured me I didn't need any surgery, Tony.'' She informed him in a fed-up tone. ''It doesn't hurt anymore. It is just a bit stiff in the evenings.''

His eyes narrowed. ''I still think-''

''Can you guys finish having a domestic later please?'' Abby interrupted sternly. When the dynamic duo both turned back to her and were seemingly paying attention once again, she continued. ''That guy snooping around your apartment swapped your pills out for these ones.'' She explained as she held up a transparent plastic bag containing the apparent imposters.

Ziva saw nothing unfamiliar about them though. ''They look exactly the same as my normal ones.'' She pointed out as she collected the bag from Abby's grasp.

''Exactly.'' The chemistry guru affirmed.

''Yes.'' Ziva said with a furrowed brow. ''That is what I said: exactly the same, Abby.''

''I know. I actually agree. That's why I said exactly.''

''Can we all please stop saying _exactly_?'' Tony inserted in a frustrated tone. ''What's different about them then, Abs?''

She turned to her computer and brought up some confusing looking sciency data. ''The pills our little home invader brought to your kitchen seem to be an exact chemical match to the crap Tony and McGee had in their bloodstream.''

Ziva's gut suddenly twisted. They were trying to poison her as well. She, once again, had her partner to thank for being spared from suffering. Even if he didn't know what he was doing. ''It is a good thing Tony showed up and turned my apartment into a crime scene then.'' She pointed out in quiet voice.

''Did we catch this friendly neighborhood burglar in the end?'' DiNozzo asked.

Abby and Ziva both turned at each other with knowing looks. ''He is the morgue.'' Ziva vaguely explained.

''With a 9mm bullet hole in his head.'' Abby added with a small smile. ''Courtesy of a certain very special agent.''

It took Tony a while to understand what they were both trying to say. Suddenly memories of shooting someone in Ziva's kitchen sprung back to his mind. So that was also real? He really did kill an intruder in his partner's home. Only he strongly doubted it was a good idea to point out that he thought he was shooting Michael Rivkin again. ''Oh.'' He drew out slowly. He locked eyes with Ziva and gave her an awkward smile. ''Well… I told you I'll always have your back. Even when I'm flying over the cuckoo's nest.'' He told her, adding a wink for good measure.

Abby clutched her chest. ''Aaww. That's so cute.'' She said fondly.

Ziva only caught the forensic scientist's actions out of the corner of her eyes, though, because she was too busy holding the senior field agent's heavy gaze. God, she wished she could share some privacy with him. Preferably in one of their bedrooms. But right now, she had a professional duty to carry out. ''Was there anything else, Abby?'' She asked dreamily, without even so much as glancing away from her partner.

''Not right now. I'm still trying to work out where our dead guys have been recently.'' Abby replied with a hint of frustration. ''Just don't trust any pills or drinks you're offered.'' She added with a stern point of her finger.

That seemed to snap Tony out of his sexually tense staring contest with Ziva. ''The doctor gave me these earlier.'' He informed Abby as he retrieved the small jar of painkillers he'd been given after he woke up.

He received two simultaneous looks of worry from his two female co-workers. ''Dr Pitt said painkillers were not a good idea for you.'' Ziva told him, concern laced her tone as she snatched the pills off him.

''Well, Brilliant Brad wasn't the one who gave these to me.''

''Then who did?'' Both Abby and Ziva asked in unison. Their voices had risen slightly along with their apparent level of worry.

His brow furrowed. ''The doctor I told you about earlier.''

Ziva turned to stare at her fellow scrutinizer with a look of terror. ''This other doctor never gave his name.''

Abby quickly grabbed the jar off the Israeli and stretched a pair of white gloves over her hands. She then swiftly made her way over to her microscope to examine one of the supposed painkillers. ''The pills in your apartment had a small mark along the circumference. It's microscopic.'' She told them in a worried tone.

''Like a signature from whoever made them?'' Ziva inquired in her investigator voice.

''Yeah, that's what I guessed it was, anyway.'' The forensic scientist looked into the microscope for a split second before lifting her head back up and covering a gasp with her hand. ''Tony, please tell me you haven't taken any of these?'' She begged with wide eyes.

Ziva turned to him with an expectant look of panic. Oh god, he better have been about to say no. She couldn't watch him go through that hell again. Not after he'd just come back to her.

His face went simultaneously blank and pale. ''I had one about an hour ago.''

Oh crap.

 **...**

Gibbs returned home with a small feeling of hope and a huge feeling of relief. His agents had recovered. They had regained their sanity to the point where they could both be fully updated on the case and return to work. Tony's hallucinogenic trip had actually brought about their biggest break in the case yet. Abby and Ducky were still working hard to find out everything they could about the two dead puppets Kort and DiNozzo had so kindly provided. They may just find out something of use. Something they could use to nail this guy.

As far as he was aware, Tony was still under the supervision of Doctor Pitt. So he'd bring his senior field agent up to speed whenever he was released from hospital. After being assured by McGee several times that he was also in the clear, he had brought the younger agent back to his own apartment and fully updated him on everything important before leaving him to rest. That poor kid handled his hallucinations in a far less epic manner than DiNozzo did, but still landed himself in hospital. Not only did Ducky have to stop him from scratching his own eyes out, but he also had to apparently watch the young agent repeatedly try and jump from one piece of Tony's furniture to next. This meant a severely sprained ankle joined the scratch marks on his eyelids in being added to the list of injuries he'd sustained over the past day. At least he'd have his best computer tech and his most experienced agent back as soon as possible, though.

As soon as he set foot on the top of his basement stairs, he froze. There was someone else here, and his gut was telling him they weren't friendly. There was just something in the air that gave him the urge to draw his gun and start firing. Panic wasn't really his style, however, so he just re-started his journey down the wooden steps and made his way over to the work top. He started pouring two cups (well, technically jars) or bourbon as he waited for whatever was lurking in the shadows to emerge and reveal itself.

''You drink whiskey?'' He asked his foe. He knew exactly who it was, but not what they looked or sounded like. He heard a single footstep behind him, but didn't turn its way. He wasn't gonna play this guy's game.

''I have always been more of a beer man.'' A deep, cold voice echoed through the basement.

''Well there's some beer in the fridge.'' Gibbs said calmly, despite the icy feeling in his stomach. ''But I'm guessing you already knew that. Right, _Kaiser_?''

* * *

 **Like my little double cliff hanger? No? Well sorry, but I thought I'd up the tension a wee bit. Thanks for reading and those of you who are still interested in this silly story, stay tuned for chapter 7.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Part seven. Excited? Sorry about the delay...again, but it literally took me ages to decide how this chapter would go.**

* * *

''All things considered, your open-door policy may be a little bit flawed, Mr Gibbs.'' The ice in Kaiser's tone matched the cold blue of his eyes.

Gibb's couldn't help but feel unnerved, but there was no way in hell he was about to let that show. ''It can bring me face to face with my enemies.'' He pointed out in a strong voice.

This particular enemy smiled back at him, though there was no real emotion in the action. ''Yes it can.'' The scarred man agreed with a nod. ''But is that a good thing?'' He stepped up to the work bench and confidently picked up his jar of bourbon. ''You're enemies tend to want you dead, do they not?''

Gibbs stood his ground as Kaiser took a small sip of his drink. ''Yeah, but I've gotta meet them if I wanna shoot them.''

He received a dark chuckle from his opponent after that veiled threat. ''You were a sniper. You have not met most of the people you've shot.''

''That was my job.''

Kaiser's chilling gaze left the glass in his hand and met the steely stare of the NCIS agent. ''And what about me? Am I just another job?''

He shook his head. ''You've made it personal.'' He said sternly. ''You've seen our file. You know what's happened to all the people who targeted my team before.''

''They are all dead.'' The foreign mastermind stated with a shrug. ''You erased them all from existence. Clearly just arresting them was not enough.'' He wore an aggravatingly mischievous smile by the end of his sentence.

Gibbs wouldn't let himself be riled up, though. ''Some of them gave me no choice.'' He stated calmly.

''Oh, I have no doubt.'' Kaiser agreed with raised eyebrows. ''But something tells me if they ever gave you one, they would still be dead.'' He added, before strutting slowly and casually around the latest basement carpentry project. ''I should find myself a hobby as well.'' He said with a furrowed brow. ''Something to distract me.''

''Why are you here?''

That question seemed to spark something in the terrorist's eyes, but his facial expression suggested he hadn't really considered the answer to it yet. ''Sometimes my enemies are worthy of respect.'' He stated as he ran a hand over the smooth wooden frame of what was eventually going to be another boat. ''And I respect you, Gibbs. I thought you deserve to see the face of the man who has beaten you.''

Gibbs almost smiled. ''You haven't beaten me.''

''I can see why you might think that.'' Kaiser affirmed as he turned back to his rival. ''You're not dead, for a start.'' He picked up a chisel and began inspecting it closely as he spoke. ''In your mind, I'm sure that counts as a good reason to still consider yourself a threat to me.''

''And in your mind?'' Gibbs asked with a slight narrowing of his eyes.

The cold gaze of his opponent never left the sharp tool he was suddenly so interested in. ''In my mind, I cannot help but agree with you.'' His monotonous tone sent an unpleasant shiver down the ex-marine's spine.

Clearly that was a veiled threat to Gibbs' life. He had a hunch that this guy rarely lets people see his face. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened to these people afterwards, either. ''So you're here to kill me.'' He half asked, half announced.

''You seem very relaxed about the idea.''

He did? It was nice to know that his poker face was still doing its job. Because, if he was honest with himself, relaxed was the last way he'd describe himself right now. His urge to go at this man with a knife was becoming increasingly hard to fight.

''The last man I killed was very calm- and very polite, for that matter- throughout our whole meeting.'' The evil blue eyes went distant as he seemingly remembered the occasion. ''Up until the end, anyway.''

Gibbs did some much needed dot-connecting in his experienced investigator brain. ''Mossad Officer Ben-Gidon.'' Again his tone was on the fence between a question and a statement.

Kaiser simply hummed in what could either have been agreement or disapproval. It was so hard to read this guy that the NCIS agent had to resist the urge to scream out in frustration.

''I never liked those spies in Tel-Aviv.'' The foreign foe announced with a hint of bitterness. ''Always sneaking. Always lying and scheming. But, in fairness to poor old Malachi, he did make a life for himself in the real world. The one outside of Mossad.'' He turned his head and locked his eyes on to the steely glare of Gibbs. ''Much like your agent has. Miss David has done well to escape from the clutches of that world.''

The Gibbs Gut was screaming. Mentioning Ziva by name was not just this guy's way of making conversation. It was another threat. This time it was to someone on his team- someone in his _family._ That was a far more effective way to get under his skin. If he was really about to killed, then he'd have to bring this bastard down with him somehow. He wouldn't hesitate to give his life if it meant his people were safe.

''I am surprised you haven't tried to attack me yet, Gibbs.'' Kaiser baited with a smile. ''Your reputation had me expecting a violent outburst by now.''

Oh yeah, he wanted to get violent all right. This guy could do with another scar or two. But the seasoned federal agent knew better than to play this guy's little game, though. ''How long would it take your men outside to come in a shoot me?'' He asked arrogantly. He hadn't seen any of the men in question, but they were definitely present. He had seen Kaiser's earpiece almost straight away.

''Not long.'' The scarred anarchist replied calmly. Clearly he wasn't perturbed by his enemy's observational skills. ''Shorter than it would take for your back-up to arrive.'' He added with a smile. ''Our two little armies may even bump into each other.'' He hit his two fists together for emphasis.

Touché. Kaiser was clearly no idiot. Even if he didn't notice Gibbs speed dial Fornell as he entered the room, he still suspected some form of distress call. The cell phone had remained in the pocket of Gibbs' sports jacket, and hopefully the FBI agent will have listened in on this encounter and called in the cavalry. He knew the response time would be as quick as it gets, but was still praying that Tobias would burst in at any second.

''So what was your plan, Gibbs?'' Kaiser asked with a furrowed brow. ''To call in the SWAT team and have them raid your house and arrest me?''

''Was actually hoping you'd fight back.'' Gibbs responded with a steely glare. ''It would give me an excuse to kill you.''

That comment brought about a slight scoff from his fellow conversationalist. ''What would I fight them with? A hammer? Perhaps a chisel?'' Kaiser's tone suggested he was quite amused at the idea of getting into a scrap with armed men.

Gibbs needed to stall him for a bit longer. He knew the timing just wasn't right for him to spring into action. ''So you just came here to let yourself be arrested?'' He asked with a fake look of confusion.

His foe chuckled softly at that. ''No.'' He responded in a considerably darker tone than before. ''I came here to see you. I wanted to spend some quality time with my latest and greatest friend.'' He said, as he sent a look of mock affection in Gibbs' direction. ''It is rare that I get to share a drink with someone. I thought it would be a nice gesture.''

''You won't be getting any praise from me for it.''

He smiled again, but a chilling storm was brewing in his eyes. ''I didn't think I would. I still brought you a nice present, though. ''

That little piece of information made Gibbs' stomach drop. He didn't even want to know what kind of 'presents' this man gave his enemies, but he guessed they were probably fatal.

Before he could even begin to word his sudden influx of unanswered questions, the abrupt sound of loud gunfire erupted from outside the house. Clearly Team Kaiser had just come into contact with Team Gibbs. That was the NCIS team leader's cue to finally spring into action. As his enemy looked up and around the basement walls with curiosity and alarm, Gibbs threw himself at him. Kaiser had a knife drawn impossibly soon after he knew what was happening and, as they fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs, the sharp blade was almost thrust into Gibbs' chest. Fortunately, it only grazed his shoulder slightly. His luck ran out there, though, because Kaiser knew how to fight. He head-butted Gibbs in the face before throwing the older man to the side. The federal agent had the knife to his throat before he could even open his eyes again.

''Sounds like we're missing out on some fun.'' Kaiser said with a cold and loud voice. ''I think I'll clean up in here and then go join in.''

The terrorist's need for vocal torment only proved to buy Gibbs the time he needed. He grabbed a loose chunk of wood off the floor beside him and slammed it into Kaiser's head. The knife wielding maniac cried out in pain and fell back down to the floor. Gibbs used this opportunity to make a dash for the sniper rifle he had in the cupboard. He snatched it, loaded it and cocked it before spinning around and taking aim at his target. Said target was sprinting up the wooden stairs towards the exit, though. There was no time to fire at him, so Gibbs quickly set off in pursuit. He stormed up the steps and into his kitchen. Kaiser had shot out of the front door already, so obviously he was running to the assumed safety net his men provided.

Gibbs stepped out onto his porch with his rifle already raised. He now had multiple unnamed targets in his sights as an intense fire fight roared on in front of his house. He could see Fornell leading the federal assault. The black-clad men, who were presumably Kaiser's men, had heavy looking weaponry and seemed to have the upper hand. The silver haired sniper took out the nearest enemy with a single bullet to the head, before sprinting over to his truck. Fornell arrived to take cover at the exact same moment Gibbs did.

''How many are there?'' Gibbs asked his long time friend. There was never any need for pleasantries between them. This was definitely no exception.

''More than us.'' Fornell replied breathlessly as he reloaded his gun. ''Was that runner Kaiser?''

Gibbs nodded. ''Couldn't get a clean shot on him. Where'd he go?''

''I don't know, but my men are dropping like flies.''

The gunfire seemed to slow down and eventually stop. The two veteran agents moved out and looked down the street. There were still three men on their side, but there was also about six or seven still bodies littering the road, most of which were wearing FBI colors. At the end of the street was a black van. The back doors were open and there, standing in front of his now seated henchmen, was Kaiser.

His voice echoed through the air as he appeared to be amplifying his voice with some kind of loud-speaker. ''Thank you for this megaphone Mr dead FBI person. Most kind of you.''

Gibbs was trying to line up a shot on this cocky mad-man, but then the target's words made him stop in his tracks.

''And I hope you like my present, Agent Gibbs. I'm afraid it cannot be returned.''

Fornell turned to meet his companion's eyes with a shocked look of curiosity. ''What the hell's he talking about?''

Gibbs' already rabbit-fast heart rate somehow increased in speed even more. Before he could even open his mouth to confess that he had no idea what Kaiser was talking to about, a loud boom went off and sent all the federal agents to the floor. Behind them, the front of his house had just exploded in a cloud of flames and debris. After he was sure no flying fragments of his home were going to collide with him, he looked up at the carnage. The whole face of the building was a complete and utter devastation of fire and rubble.

''Son of a bitch.'' Fornell shouted in disbelief.

The van load of enemies had since sped off, and all that was left on the street were the dead bodies, the screams of distant civilians and the overall sense of horror.

 **...**

''Ziva, don't you think locking me up in my own apartment is a bit drastic?''

Tony was restless and frustrated. It had been hours since he dropped the pill that apparently contained another batch of the Crazy Disease he'd just shaken off. He was still feeling perfectly normal, and had tried his best to let his partner know that, but she was having none of it. Ziva insisted on watching him closely, and in a safe location. She was apparently taking no chances after his last drugged-up adventure.

''If you are about to go crazy again, then I am not letting you out of my sight.'' She replied with a stern point of her finger.

''But I'm bored!'' He whined like a petulant child. ''We should be trying to catch this Kaiser guy, not sitting here doing nothing.''

Her sigh coincided with a familiar rolling of her eyes. ''Perhaps you should try and find a way to entertain yourself.'' She suggested vaguely as she made her way over to his shelves where he kept his movie collection.

The view he got as she bent down and rummaged through the items near the bottom temporarily distracted him from his boredom. That was entertainment all right. ''I could certainly think of one way for us to...entertain ourselves.'' He said quietly as he continued to stare at her derriere.

She turned her head and caught him in the act. She never minded what part of her body his gaze wandered towards, though. She always reacted with teasing and playful flirtation. And sure enough, today was no different. She chuckled huskily as a naughty smile tugged at her lips. ''I am guessing it involves your bedroom.''

''Not necessarily.'' He shot back with a trademark grin.

Her eyebrows rose up in playful surprise. ''Is it reading then? I was actually trying to find that book I left here ages ago.''

She turned back and continued looking for the book in question. Only now, her back arched as she raised her backside higher into the air. He nearly growled at the action. She knew exactly what she was doing. His mind was now well and truly fixated on the idea of reuniting himself with her familiar and perfect body. Would she reject any advances he would make? Was their discussion and subsequent kiss in the break room the signed permission slip he needed to finally have her? Could he try and really _be_ with her on a permanent basis? His racing heart and the burning desire in his gut certainly seemed to think so. He couldn't help but feel hesitancy, though. He would have to seek clarification before he could make any move.

''We're gonna talk about it this time, right?'' He asked as he got to his feet and made his way over to her tantalizing form.

She didn't turn away from her rummaging activities as she replied in a bright but curious tone. ''Talk about what?''

''Earlier.'' He vaguely elaborated.

She jumped at his suddenly close proximity, before getting back to her feet and turning to him with a furrowed brow. ''You told me that a random man gave you the painkillers.'' She said carefully. ''But was there-''

''Not about that.'' He interrupted, holding her gaze with a heavy look. ''The break room.''

Realization seemed to dawn on her face as her eyes softened. Her breath almost seemed to catch before she had decided how to respond. ''I…'' She cleared her throat in an attempt to strengthen her thick voice. ''I was not aware there was anything to talk about.''

What did that mean? Was she saying that he was allowed to kiss her on regular basis now, or that the incident was meaningless? He didn't know what she thought about the whole thing, but he definitely thought their earlier kiss spoke volumes. Had he been mistaken? ''You told me we need to be more honest with each other.'' He said softly. She simply nodded slowly in confirmation. ''Well, I say we start now. We've got time to kill, apparently.''

''What do you want me to say?'' She asked in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

He smiled lovingly at her. ''Tell me that it meant something to you too.''

''The kiss?''

He reached up and brushed a few wild curls out of her now nervous looking face. ''The kiss, the sex a few weeks ago and basically any time you've spent in my company outside of work recently.'' He clarified in a sure voice that hid the fact he was truly petrified.

She made a shocked face, as she tried to find it within her to reply honestly. Did it mean something? Of course it did. Every second spent with him in private brought about a deep and fuzzy feeling of love and joy in her chest. That definitely meant something. _He_ meant everything to her. Could she tell him that? He clearly wanted to hear something along those lines.

''If it helps, every time you're here- in my apartment, it just feels right.'' He confessed with open and raw honesty. ''It feels like you belong with me, you know? Like, all the time.'' Her heart suddenly erupted into life, and she raised her arms and cupped both sides of his face with her hands as he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. ''And whenever you're not here, it feels empty. I feel empty.''

She knew exactly where he was coming from. ''I know what you mean.'' She announced softly. And she really did. Whenever she found herself at home and all alone in the evenings, she spent the whole time longing for his company so much that it was almost painful. Somehow she never felt at home unless he was present.

''Do you have any idea how hard it is not to kiss you all the time?'' He asked her then, and that particular question injected an unexpected amount of hopeful adrenaline into her veins.

''What is stopping you?'' She whispered her question, and met his eyes with an inviting look.

Tony always knew how to read her facial messages, and he seemed to receive the message loud and clear because his mouth spread into a wide grin before he dipped his head again and met her lips. The kiss was, again, earth-shattering. It was longing and loving and…perfect. It didn't take long for it to get heated, though. The lust levels rapidly increased as they started running their hands all over each other. He backed her up against the wall and slid his knee between her legs. They continued to lose themselves in each other's touch until they both pulled back for a second to catch their wayward breaths. ''On second thoughts,'' Tony said breathlessly. ''I think the bedroom _will_ be involved.''

She chuckled throatily, but then his mouth was at her neck. He kissed the sensitive spot below her jaw and she couldn't hold back the deep moan that escaped her mouth. Her hands raked through his hair as he started exploring her golden skin with his lips. He paused for a moment, only so he could remove her cardigan and toss it aimlessly behind him. She started unbuttoning his shirt, but didn't get far before he unexpectedly lifted her off her feet. She squealed in surprise and wrapped her legs around his hips. He then carried her through the hallway and, indeed, into his bedroom.

She removed her shirt just before he dropped her down on the bed and he practically moaned at the sight of her in just her bra. As she sent him a longing look full of love, silent begging and lust, he ridded himself of his pants and t-shirt. He covered her body and locked his mouth to hers again as they began kissing each other without restraint, and with increasing desperation. He had just ran his hand down her smooth stomach to the hem of her pants, when her cell phone started buzzing and ringing in her pocket. She reached in and pulled the invasive device into the air to inspect it. Tony continued kissing his way around her half naked torso as she decided whether or not to accept the call.

''Who is it?'' He asked her, before moving up to kiss the corner of her mouth.

''Gibbs.''

He sighed heavily, and their gazes met as the heated lust in their eyes started to simmer down and slowly be replaced with curious concern. ''You should answer it then.'' He stated calmly, despite being unbelievably irritated by his boss' timing.

She nodded and let out a sigh of her own, before flipping the cell phone open and answering in a strong a voice as possible. Her hand, which was softly running through Tony's sandy hair, abruptly dropped to grip his arm with astonishing force. He looked back to her face and saw a look of pure terror marring her gorgeous features. Clearly the news wasn't good. ''We will be right there.'' She assured Gibbs in a shaky tone. She was immediately rolling away from Tony and jumping to her feet after she slammed the phone shut again.

His eyes widened with a look of curious expectation as he watched her gather up her previously abandoned clothing. She seemed to be very much rattled. He would even go as far as saying she was panicking about whatever was going on. ''What was that about?'' He queried, his level of worry rising by the second.

''He came to Gibb's house, Tony.'' She stated sharply. Her hands were shaking, and her breaths were becoming increasingly short.

He stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder. It always grounded her to point where she could actually start talking properly. ''Ziva, take a breath.''

She did as he said, and took in a slow lungful of air. After breathing it out she closed her eyes and visibly tried to calm herself. ''He bombed it.''

''What?!''

There were tears in her eyes when she reopened them. ''Kaiser.'' She elaborated. ''He has destroyed Gibbs' home. We have to go.'' She then span away and shot off down the hallway. Tony simply stood there in shock. He could acknowledge only the feeling of sheer shock, and the dark twisting of his gut. This was bad. This was really, really bad.

* * *

 **Bit of a short chapter I'm afraid. But I hope you enjoyed the...developments. Thanks for reading this far, guys.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry, I know it's been a while since the last chapter, but I just couldn't find the imaginative momentum. I think I'm ready to get back into this story now, and start building towards a climax. Thank you so much for your patience, guys. I'll try and juggle this and my 'Balance' story.**

* * *

This pain was something new for all of them.

Sure, they'd experienced more than their fair share of suffering over the years, but this somehow felt different. When Harper Dearing bombed the NCIS headquarters over a year before, it was unanimously agreed that the explosive disaster was far too close to home for the team. They couldn't seem to imagine a more personal way to be targeted. The Navy Yard felt like their home, but it wasn't _literally_ their home. Gibbs' house was always a place where you could feel safe. It was always a location you could visit at all hours to seek comfort and advice. Seeing it in such a horrific state of destruction made everyone wallow in a cold feeling of hopelessness. None of them would ever admit it, but there was a heavy sense of defeat in the air. This monster had hit them where it hurt, and hit them hard.

Tony entered through the back door, and felt his gut twist at the sight of what used to be the living room. It was a mess. Rubble, burnt wood and broken glass were just about the only recognizable materials left in the front half of the house. He swallowed back the bile threatening to rise up through his throat, and stepped over some loose bricks towards the entrance of the basement. It seemed to be the only place where you couldn't see the complete extent of the devastation. But for the lingering smell of smoke, the noise of the press crowds outside and the general feeling of nausea, Tony may well have forgotten that anything horrific happened here at all. It could well have been just another trip to see his boss for an advisory discussion. Nothing bad had to be happening. It could have just been a normal day.

Oh, who was he kidding?

As he hoped, and sort of expected, Gibbs was sat on a stool by his work bench and staring aimlessly towards the far wall. He had a nasty bruise blossoming on his face, and an unreadable look in his piercing gaze. He didn't really look that mad, which had Tony a bit worried in truth. His boss was a lot easier to deal with when he was angry. Right then, he almost seemed to be feeling sorry for himself. That was a _lot_ scarier. He'd never dealt with Gibbs like this.

He slowly made his way down the wooden steps, taking a deep breath when he reached the bottom. ''Boss-''

''Spare me the sympathy, DiNozzo.''

His tone suggested he'd dealt with enough of it already. Tony wasn't here to offer comfort, though. ''I just wanted to-''

''And the apology.''

He almost smiled at that. It was a relief to see that Gibbs' uncanny ability to read his agents was still intact. However, he still couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt. No one was there for the team leader when he needed them. None of his team backed him up. As the senior field agent, he couldn't help but help but take full responsibility for this. Both personally and professionally.

''We should've been here, boss.'' He announced regretfully. '' _I_ should've been here.''

Gibbs turned to face his right hand man for the first time. ''There was an explosion, Tony. Do you think I wanted any of my people in the middle of it?'' He asked, in an unnervingly soft tone.

''We're a team.'' He argued, as gently as he could. ''Teams are meant to be there for each other.''

The ex-sniper scoffed slightly. ''Not every minute of the day. This is my home, Tony. I shouldn't need you guys to back me up here.''

Tony's fear levels only rose every time his boss called him by his first name. Whenever he did that, it was officially crisis time. ''But this case is different. We knew this guy had eyes on all of us. We should be using safe-houses or something.'' He started pacing the floor of the basement and gesturing with his hands as he let himself get more and more worked up by…well, everything. ''I mean, what the hell doe this guy want? He's had plenty of opportunities to kill all of us if he wanted to. Does he just want to mess with our heads? Because he's doing a damn good job if he does.''

Gibbs sighed heavily. ''He's an anarchist. Maybe he doesn't have a real objective.''

''Oh, that's good thinking.'' Tony replied introspectively. ''Like the Joker in the Dark Knight.'' He received an eye-roll for his typical use of movie trivia, before continuing in a quiet voice. ''Some men just want to watch the world burn.''

His boss' eyes narrowed slightly. ''Do you think he was _joking_ when he killed five FBI agents?''

DiNozzo's eyes went wide. ''Um…of course not, boss.'' He said with a wince. ''I'm just saying he might have similar motives. Maybe his dad took a knife to his face when he was a kid and now he's a class-A psycho.''

To his surprise, Gibbs actually seemed to consider that idea. ''He did have a scar down his right side.''

''Of his face?''

''Uh-huh.''

Tony suddenly froze, and met the older man's steely blue eyes. ''A long scar down his face.'' He repeated, though more to himself than Gibbs. ''Dark brown hair, blue eyes, kinda creepy looking?''

The team leader's eyes became thin slits for a split second, before he got to his feet and almost squared up to his fellow conversationalist. ''You've met this guy?'' His voice was now laced with a familiar tone of impatience and partial anger.

Tony swallowed nervously. ''Maybe.''

''Maybe isn't good enough, DiNozzo.'' The bossman's glare had somehow increased in intensity. ''Tell me what happened.''

 **…**

Ziva felt lost. It was a feeling she was very much familiar with, but one she could never get used to. The dark and all-consuming sense of horror still lingered heavily within her. She had to try and focus, though. She had to do her job. Gibbs needed his team, so she wouldn't let herself be beaten by this. She wouldn't let it consume her. So she put out the BOLO on the van, sent the tire marks left by the burning rubber of said van to Abby and generally helped to process the rather large crime scene.

It took everything she had not to break down.

This maniac was a real threat; one she could happily admit she was frightened of. All the family she had left was being targeted. Everyone she loved was in danger as long as Kaiser was still out there. The last time she felt this hopelessly petrified was when the port-to-port killer was on the loose. Luckily for her, a certain very special agent managed to snap her out of the defeated mindset she was in back then. As she, once again, found herself staring in the direction of Gibbs' house, she couldn't help but feel alone. She felt exposed, vulnerable and inexplicably anxious. There was no sign of any of her colleagues, but there was only one person she wanted next to her.

She caught sight of Tony walking around the side of the ruined house a short while before, so headed in that direction herself. She didn't realize she was trembling until she had taken four heavy steps into the house. She closed her eyes against the pain of seeing her father figure's home in such a way. She had to forcefully avert her gaze from the pile of debris taunting her from the other side of the small kitchen. She froze on the spot when she saw a half-burnt picture on the floor. She slowly picked it up and examined it. Her heart squeezed at the memory it displayed.

Thanks giving 2012. The whole NCIS team is gathered around the dining table wearing warm and tipsy grins. Well, all except Gibbs himself, who was the one holding the camera. Just below the now charcoaled corner of the picture sat her and Tony. He had his arm resting around the back of her chair, and his chin resting on her shoulder, as he wore a ridiculous expression while she tried her best to keep a composed smile on her face. That night was a significant one for her and her partner. She trusted him with the secret of her annual opera trips, and he more than justified her choice. The way he helped her honor Tali's memory was all it took for him to fully own her heart.

Tears burned the back of her eyes. The need for his company suddenly felt overwhelming.

She placed the photograph on the kitchen counter, which was thankfully still intact, before turning towards the basement. She could hear voices echoing from the underground boat factory from the moment she set foot inside the house, and was fairly confident she knew the sources of them. Sure enough, the two most influential men in her life were at the foot of the wooden stairs, in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

''You should've called me right away.''

''I thought about it, but I figured you'd be at the Navy yard, so I went there.'' Tony sounded more apologetic than argumentative from Ziva's perspective. But she knew that wouldn't help him.

''And when you found out I wasn't there?''

He sighed, running a hand through his sandy hair. ''Like I told you, other things got in the way.''

That answer didn't seem to earn him any brownie points. ''Right, like finding out you'd been poisoned again. Another thing I didn't need to know, apparently.''

''We still don't know if the pill had any effect.'' Tony argued. ''Abby's running blood tests again, but I feel fine. If you don't believe me, ask Ziva. She's been with me since I got out the hospital.''

Gibbs' eyes narrowed slightly as he considered his agent's point, before his head tilted ever so slightly in her direction at the top of the stairs. ''That true, Ziva?'' He asked, without the need to look her way. ''He seem okay to you?''

Tony, who had his back to her, turned around and seemed somewhat shocked at her sudden appearance. His eyes widened for a split second, but then softened to far more intimate level when he met her gaze. They stayed like this, eyes locked and heavy, for longer than appropriate. Just the warmth of his piercing stare was enough to make her feel more grounded and safe. It was enough to remind her that all was not yet lost, not while she still had him.

She cleared her throat. ''He appears to be fine, Gibbs.'' She answered, not once even glancing away from Tony. ''But I still think we should keep an eye on him, after what happened last time.'' She advised as she made her way to the foot of the steps.

Gibbs nodded once, before turning his steely glare in her direction. ''You didn't think it was a good idea to tell me that he'd been released?''

Her brow furrowed. ''I thought you knew.''

''Nope. Didn't know about his little chat with Kaiser, either.''

Now she was even more confused. She looked back at Tony. ''What?''

Tony rolled his eyes as if everyone was being overly dramatic. ''Turns out the guy who signed my release forms and gave me the pills was just our new friend, Kaiser, playing doctor.'' He explained, coming across as a little tired of having to do so again.

Well, that was unsettling. This bastard was in the same room as Tony? Now she found herself regretting leaving his bedside even more. What if _she_ had come face to face with Kaiser? Would she have somehow known he was an imposter and managed to slap a pair of handcuffs on him? In all honesty, simply arresting him wouldn't feel satisfactory after the events of the day. Shooting him sounded a lot more appealing. God, how she hoped the opportunity to do so revealed itself in the near future.

''Are you okay?''

Tony's question took her by surprise. She snapped out of her murderous trance, and found her breath catching slightly when she met his concerned gaze. He seemed to be standing very close to her. Maybe too close, considering their present company. She swallowed back the sudden feeling of nervousness. ''I am fine.''

She could tell, just by the expression on his face, that he didn't quite believe her. She wasn't sure whether to be mad at his mistrust, or proud of his ability to read her so well. She didn't have long to decide, however, because their boss decided to speak up again.

''You get the BOLO out on the van?''

It took a few silent seconds for Ziva to realize the question was aimed at her. ''Um…yes.'' She replied eventually. ''The bodies are on their way to Ducky. The slugs found from Kaiser's men are on their way to Abby.'' He nodded in approval. ''I have a feeling she wants to see you.'' She added quietly.

He sighed heavily, before looking up in the direction of the basement's doorway. There was a flash of emotion on his face that could have been interpreted as dread, but he reluctantly started making his way up the steps towards the nightmare waiting for him at ground level. ''I wanna be updated on everything from now on.'' He informed them in a tone they couldn't argue with. ''Keep an eye on him, Ziva.'' And with that, he disappeared through the exit.

It took all of three seconds after Gibbs' departure for Tony to rest his hand on her shoulder and gently spin her around to face him. ''Okay, your old catchphrase may have worked in the past,'' He began in a no-nonsense tone. ''but it doesn't anymore. I know you're not _fine._ ''

''I do not know what-''

''Ziva…''

He was clearly having none of it. One thing she really wasn't in the mood for right now was an argument. Not with the man who, in all honesty, she just wanted to hold her and comfort her right now. Since when had she become so weak?

''I do not know what to tell you.'' Her words were vague, and probably infuriating, but they were the truth. She suddenly felt tears threatening to surface again, and they were always harder to fight off when she was looking into her partner's eyes.

His features noticeably softened at her thick voice. ''You can try.'' He said softly. ''It's only me.'' She felt warm and fuzzy tingle throughout her whole body when he lifted her hand and placed kiss to her knuckles, all the time looking into her dangerously wet eyes. ''I'm always with you. You can tell me.''

The corners of her mouth pulled up slightly at his use of the words she told him in the elevator earlier that week. Her expression turned to something much more akin to despair, though, as she tried to put her current state of desperation into words. ''It's just…'' She choked back a sob, and couldn't quite find her voice again.

''I know.'' He assured her in a whisper. She could see his eyes glassing over now, as well. ''It's all a little too close to home, huh?''

She nodded. ''This is Gibbs' house.'' She stated in disbelief. ''This…monster destroyed it, Tony. There was nothing to be gained from it, he just wanted to.''

''And it scares you to think about what else he might do?''

She sniffed back another invasion of tears. ''Does is not scare you?'' She asked him with wide eyes, though he didn't seem to have an immediate answer. ''What if this is just the beginning? What if he bombs another one of our homes? What if one of us is killed by it this time? This maniac has a personal vendetta against us, Tony. Everyone I love could be taken away from me, all because I cannot beat him.''

She was finally losing control of her emotions, and Tony could see it. He knew he had to be her rock. He had to be strong, and ease her down from this potential hysteria. The problem was, he was going through the same thing. She had just about managed to perfectly word his own previously scrambled thoughts and emotions while explaining hers. The fear of letting Kaiser break the team apart and harming his friends was suddenly having his heart rate spiking. What would have happened if Gibbs had been caught in the blast? What if it was Ziva who had been paid a visit and subsequently blown up? She'd already had her home broken into by these guys, after all. It didn't bare thinking about how much worse it could have been.

''Are you not scared, Tony?'' Her words brought him back to reality. To her; safe and sound.

He cleared his suddenly desert-dry throat. ''Yeah.'' His voice wavered slightly. ''Yeah, I'm scared.'' Her chin quivered as she visibly succumbed to more weeping. ''I'm terrified, Ziva.''

She threw her arms around his waist and buried her face into his chest. He didn't hesitate to return the embrace, needing it as much as she did, in truth. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back as she sobbed silently into his jacket. He could feel a stray teardrop make its way down his cheek, but wasn't surprised by its existence. He was in pain, and seeing Ziva like this only made the emotional agony even harder to ignore. There wasn't much he wouldn't have done to end this nightmare. To bring peace to the team- to _her._ He felt like a failure for not being able to do it.

''I cannot lose you.''

Her words were but a soft hush amongst the shaky breaths. His heart broke a little bit at her admission, because he could tell her the same thing, only it would never seem sufficient enough to let her know exactly how much she meant to him. Yet, her words were raw and honest. He knew, from her perspective, that they were more or less a heartfelt confession of her undying love.

He closed his eyes and let the warm feeling of her presence soak in. ''You won't.'' He promised her, though he had nothing to back it up.

She knew as much. ''We do not know what he will do next, Tony. He might go after you again.''

''And he might go after you.'' He counter-pointed. ''It doesn't make a difference. We're not gonna let him win, okay? People have tried to break us apart before, and look where it landed them.''

She pulled back from the hug and sent him a look full of such blatant affection that it caused his chest to ache. While his head was still practically swimming, she ran both her hands through his hair, before resting them on each of his cheeks. ''I have made a habit of needing you to drag me away from the edge, Tony.'' She announced in thin whisper. ''I am weak, and I am sorry.'' Before he could argue against her self-flagellating point, she stretched up and placed a soft, but brief, kiss to his lips.

When she pulled back, he sent her a look of gentle admonishment. ''You're not weak, Ziva.'' He said in a sure voice. ''You're actually the strongest person I've ever met. Don't make it sound like you're constantly relying on me. It's not a one way street.'' His voice became thicker as his honesty brought about an increase in emotion. ''You think I always drag you away from the edge? Well I'd fall over it every day if you weren't there. Hell, I think I'd have gone insane years ago- permanently this time- if you weren't there.''

Her face crumbled at his words, and she once again rested her forehead against his chest. ''My point is,'' He continued, in the strongest voice he could muster. ''You should never feel like you're overburdening me. I'm your partner. I'm your best friend and if I didn't want to help you whenever you're struggling, then I wouldn't have volunteered for it.'' He fought back the urge to admit anything more; he knew the use of a particular L-word may just scare her more than it reassured her. ''That's how we work, Ziva. We help each other. We look out for each other. It doesn't matter if it's about a crazy terrorist, losing a loved one or even just a damn weight insecurity.''

She sniffled again, before looking back up at him with a raised eyebrow. ''Weight insecurity?''

''Entirely theoretical.'' He assured her hastily. ''And I was referring to myself.'' He added with wide eyes. ''But, if you ever did come to me worrying about your figure, I would tell you it's still sexy as hell.'' She tilted her head and shot him a look questioning look. ''Seriously, you're smoking hot. Hottest woman I know. I've never seen someone look so good in an NCIS jack-''

She hit him on the arm playfully. ''Shut up, Tony.'' She commanded with a small smile. ''But thank you.''

''You don't have to thank me. I've always been very complimentary of your body.'' He joked, knowing full well what she was actually grateful for. After she sent him another head-tilting look of impatience, he decided to let her know that. ''Oh, you were talking about all the other stuff I said?'' He mock deducted. ''Well, in that case, you're welcome.''

She couldn't hold back the grin. ''You are an idiot.''

''I know, but you're stuck with me.'' He shot back with a wink.

She chuckled softly. ''I suppose I am.'' Her face slowly fell, though, as she considered her own words. ''Unless Kaiser changes that.''

His own thoughts turned deadly serious again, as reality came crashing back down. He took a deep breath, and tried his best to think like a senior field agent and not Ziva's goofy lover. ''He's not changing anything.'' He stated in a sure voice. ''We're gonna find him, and stop him.''

The fiery determination in his eyes sparked a new feeling of hope and optimism within her. She was always willing to follow him wherever he led her, and now was no different. ''Hopefully by _stop,_ you mean kill.''

He nodded. ''Pretty much. Come on, I'm sure the bossman needs us back at the Navy yard.''

And with that, they both set off to fight this battle. They weren't sure how long it would last, or even if they'd really win it, but they what they _did_ know is that they'd be side by side throughout. All the way, no matter how it turned out. Because they needed each other. Because they loved each other.

 **...**

He stepped off the elevator at the fourth floor. He had to pretend he didn't know where he was going, just in case anyone was watching. In reality, though, he knew exactly where his room was, and what he would find in it. It was all pre-arranged, all discussed a hundred times before hand. The package would be in the air conditioning vent. Simple, easy and quick. That unmistakable cheap-hotel aroma assaulted his nostrils as he made his way through the winding corridors. The smoking ban was implemented years ago, but it still always smelt like stale cigarettes in these places. It was as if even a decade of cleaning couldn't rid the carpets of their smoggy history.

He rounded the final corner and swiped his key through the door handle, swinging it open without hesitation. His confident brashness ended there, though, because he immediately knew something was off. The bed, which was visible from the doorway, wasn't neatly made like it should have been. The sheets appeared to have been tossed around, as if someone was searching for something underneath them. After his senses had fully adjusted to the dark room, he could hear the TV blaring and could even make out the colorful glow its screen projected onto the wall.

He drew his gun and slowly tip-toed his way over the carpet and into the room. He flicked on the lights, before approaching the bed. He shot a brief glance towards the corner, but was too late. There, sat on a chair in the shadows, sat the dark silhouette of his intruder.

''You know, when I heard you'd gone rogue, I wondered if it was just another cover.''

He recognized that voice. His experiences with the CIA were memories that were all too vivid. ''Kort?'' He asked in disbelief, though he'd learned not to be surprised by anything in this line of work.

''Before you try anything, you should know your current predicament.'' The arrogant, accented man said in a level tone. ''Not only is my gun pointed at you, but also the rifle of a very talented sniper from across the street.''

That could have been a bluff, but he suspected it wasn't. ''What do you want?''

''Information.'' Kort stated simply. ''Preferably about your employer.''

He decided to play dumb. ''The agency knows almost everything about MI6.''

The one eyed man sighed heavily. ''Your _current_ employer.'' He clarified. ''Or are you telling me MI6 have successfully used you to infiltrate Kaiser's organization?''

He scoffed. ''That is not possible. Have you met him? He is not a man to be fooled easily.''

''So you have gone rogue.''

He smiled as smugly as he could. ''As far as London knows, I'm dead.'' He sat down on the edge of the bed and shook of his jacket. ''The same goes for the rest of the world.''

Kort blew air out of his nose sharply. Apparently, that was his version of laughter. ''We obviously know better.''

He nodded in agreement. ''Clearly. Tell me, what does the latest CIA file on me have to say?''

His fellow conversationalist leaned forward, his face finally becoming more clear in the artificial light. ''Heinrich Voller, ex-British secret service, currently the second in command to the international terrorist known as Kaiser.''

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 **Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. To those of you who have given me feedback throughout, you guys seriously make my day. There will be more. Cheers**


	9. Chapter 9

**Another chapter? Why, yes of course. Hope you enjoy**

* * *

Tony and Ziva arrived in the bullpen with a familiar sense of urgent determination and a new-found feeling of solidarity. Their professional bond was always strong. They were always in sync; one always _zigged_ while the other _zagged._ They both knew exactly what their boss wanted them to do, without the need for words or orders. That had been the case for years, perhaps since the very start or their partnership. What was new to them now, though, was the personal closeness that, despite being at work, left a heavy feeling of warmth and intimacy in the air.

Neither of them had really committed to the idea of a long term relationship, at least not vocally, but Ziva couldn't help but feel like their recent actions spoke for themselves. They clearly _were_ both willing to fully devote themselves to each other. In fact, she'd never felt more comfortable with the idea, even if Tony still hadn't technically told her it was happening. With the way they'd always interacted, was it really all that shocking that they'd both wordlessly fallen into a more romantic routine without the need to spell it out for themselves?

They were always close. They were always good together. They were always on this road. It was as simple as that.

His hand brushed against hers for a split second, and she gave it a brief squeeze to signal her support and affection. Their eyes never met, and their focus never wavered. They had a job to do, after all. But the action, as small and innocent as it was, still held a heavy amount of significance. It was a reminder that they were there for each other. Always.

Both of them split off and headed to their respective desks without really acknowledging the presence of their colleague, who was slouching behind his computer with a furrowed brow.

''There you are. Where the hell is everybody?''

McGee's voice caught them both by surprise. Ziva turned a mildly curious expression in his direction, while Tony abruptly stopped his backside's journey toward the seat of his office chair and started approaching the computer tech with a skeptical look on his face.

''McGoo? What happened to your face?''

Ziva and McGee shared a brief look of confusion. He was clearly referring to the three long, red marks running down the left side of McGee's face. They began just above the eyebrow and ended at his cheek bone. When he blinked, you could actually see the point where the cuts ran over his eyelids. It really was quite a nasty injury, and the only reason Ziva wasn't reacting in a shocked manner, like Tony, was because she'd already seen the full extent of the damage in the hospital.

''I…I had little…episode.'' McGee explained carefully, with a slight hint of embarrassment. ''When I was still under the influence of that chemical, drug…thing.''

DiNozzo frowned. ''Hallucinations?''

''Yeah, something like that.'' The younger agent replied with a raised eyebrow. ''I'm guessing you know all about what that was like.''

It was half way between a question and a statement, and Tony wasn't sure how to treat it. Even just thinking about his own experience when he'd lost his mind made him want to lash out violently, so he simply offered a knowing look and a slight grunt in response, before circling back to his first question. ''So sometime during this little acid trip you decided to try and claw your own eye out?''

He was only teasing, but the sudden look of undignified shame on McGee's face suggested his mock-hypothesis wasn't far off the truth. ''Apparently.'' Tim confirmed, and that made Tony feel like an ass for his insensitive joking. ''I might've succeeded if Ducky wasn't there.''

Tony's face melted into a look of sympathy. ''That was some pretty bad stuff, huh?''

McGee raised both his eyebrows in agreement. ''I heard all about what happened to you.'' He explained, his tone nothing but empathetic. ''It sounded kind of terrifying, but at least you still managed to nail a couple of suspects. All I did was wreck your apartment.''

''Oh, _That's_ why it was such a mess.''

Ziva couldn't help but smile at the memory of Tony's horrified face when he returned to his apartment and saw the carnage left behind by their friend. ''It looked like a damn warzone.'' He added, turning towards her with raised eyebrows. ''Right, Ziva?''

She nodded in agreement, but spared a thought for their boss. ''It was bad.'' She confirmed. ''But, after today, you cannot complain.''

A dark, stony look etched his features. ''Yeah, I guess not.'' He said quietly, she could see guilt and sorrow in his demeanor as he started walking back to his desk.

''Wait, what happened today?''

McGee's inquiry pointed two pairs of wide eyes in his direction. ''Are you serious, McGee?'' Tony asked with a gaping jaw.

He seemed genuinely oblivious. ''Yeah.'' His answer was stretched out as he looked between his two colleagues. ''I literally just got here. Gibbs sent some agents to pick me up from my apartment, but they wouldn't tell me anything. They seemed a bit…edgy on the way here too.''

Ziva and Tony's gazes locked, and they shared a loaded look of dread. ''You might wanna turn on the news, Tim.''

DiNozzo's words, along with his soft tone, caused McGee's face to fall. Clearly his mind was suddenly racing with horrific possibilities. ''Um…'' He said eventually. ''Could one of you guys turn the TV on?'' At Tony's look of disgust, he hurried to explain himself. ''I've sprained my ankle, so getting up it kind of a long process.'' He gestured towards the set of crutches lying on the ground below his desk.

Both Tony and Ziva were surprised at their apparent lack of observational skills. It was understandable for Tony to be unaware of McGee's injuries, but Ziva actually _knew_ about the sprain. She gave herself a mental head slap for somehow forgetting, and shot her injured coworker an apologetic look as she got out of her chair to get the remote.

''Did you do that in my apartment too?'' Tony asked with a wince. McGee nodded, deliberately keeping his eyes averted from both his friends' faces in shame. ''Is that why I found a shoe in my living room?''

McGee sighed. ''That would be mine.''

''Holy bandages, McBatman.'' Tony exclaimed with a frown. ''What were you actually doing?''

''Honestly, Tony? I've been wondering that since I woke up in hospital.''

''Seriously, you went on a mini-rampage-''

''Guys!'' They both turned to Ziva at the sound of her voice, mouths open and brows furrowed. ''The news.'' She explained to them eventually. The TV had sprung to life, and the very first channel was showing a reporter standing live at the FBI yellow tape barrier outside of Gibbs' house. Or rather, whatever was left of it. After a few seconds of tense silence, Tony turned away from the screen with an angrily red face. As he sat back down at his desk, Ziva looked to McGee, whose eyes were wide with shock.

''Is that Gibbs'…'' His question trailed off as his voice seemed to get stuck in his throat.

Ziva took a deep breath. ''Yes, it is.''

He swallowed. ''No.''

His voice sounded small and desperate, which was ironic really. She'd felt that way ever since she found out about the bombing. ''Kaiser did it.'' She explained, though she suspected he'd already jumped to that conclusion. ''In person.''

He shook his head in disbelief. ''I can't…''

''We can't, either.'' Tony expressed from behind Ziva's back.

She turned around to see him leveling the far wall with a distant look. His eyes were a million miles away, and she could see the tension in his jaw. He was blaming himself. Of course he was. That was what he did, after all. She had seen in before, after Director Shepard's death. Back then his self flagellation swelled to the point where he could only see drink as the answer. She suspected he still beat himself up about that setback, and that this one would cause him similar issues. Neither was his fault, though, no matter how badly his conscience tormented him. If she had to keep reminding him that, then so be it.

''Why didn't you say something?''

McGee's question wasn't really aimed at herself or Tony specifically, but she felt like it was her responsibility to answer it. Her partner had a tendency to let his emotions dictate his actions in situations like this, and she wanted to avoid any violent outbursts if possible. ''We thought you already knew.'' She answered eventually, keeping her eyes glued to Tony.

''Do you think I'd have been sat here on my ass if I already knew?''

She, again, turned to face McGee. ''Well, you are injured.'' She gently argued. ''We assumed you were not at the scene because you were either incapacitated or already on Kaiser's electronic trail.''

He seemed to reluctantly concede the point. ''Is there an electronic trail?''

She opened her mouth to answer him, but before she could give him her useless reply- (she had no idea if there actually was a trail) - a familiar voice forced its way into the conversation.

''Yep. There sure is, McGee.''

Their heads all shot up in the direction of their boss, who marched into the bullpen with an unreadable expression on his face and Fornell on his six. They all perked up a little bit at his news which, incidentally, was the only _good_ news they'd heard all day. They didn't have much to go on so far, but the most effective way to track down a suspect- or, in this case, their raging psycho of an enemy- was using McGee and Abby's combined computer skills. The idea that they could finally make some progress on finding this guy had them all staring at Gibbs with excited and expectant looks.

''Well, what have you got…boss?'' Tony asked, frowning at the momentary reversal of their usual roles.

Fornell spoke up for the first time. ''I found this among the wreckage.'' He held up a small device, showcasing it to the whole team. Despite the relatively positive breakthrough, his face still looked decidedly haunted. Ziva could understand why this darkness and gloom was radiating from him so blatantly. The FBI had lost five men. If he was remotely like Gibbs- or _any_ good leader, for that matter- then that would have been a heavy blow. He had the right to be devastated.

''An earpiece?'' McGee asked, after a inspecting the object from his desk.

Tony stood up and retrieved the device from Fornell's grasp. ''Was it on one of his dead henchman's bodies?'' He asked, adopting his calm, investigator voice.

''It was in the house.'' Gibbs informed him from behind his desk. ''All his men were on the street. It has to be his.''

That information unnerved Ziva for some reason. ''Perhaps it fell out when you two fought.'' She suggested. In truth, though, she was just hoping that was the case.

Gibbs shook his head without bothering to look up at her. ''No. It was in the porch.'' At everyone's confused frown, he revised that statement. ''What was left of it.''

That made her gut twist even more. ''Earpieces do not just fall out, Gibbs.''

''No, they don't.'' He agreed.

She shared a confused, but also slightly worried, look with Tony. It was the senior field agent who decided to speak up. ''So you think he just left it there on purpose, Boss?''

''Maybe.''

That didn't sound good to Ziva. ''So he could be using it to lead us astray, or perhaps even into a trap.'' Gibbs' expression suggested he already knew that. ''But you are aware of that.'' She stated with a heavy sigh.

His head moved ever so slight downward in a microscopic nod. ''Uh-huh.'' He confirmed.

''And you're gonna follow the trace anyway.'' Tony stated tiredly. He was very much used to this kind of behavior from Gibbs after so many years working under him.

The bossman's eyes narrowed briefly, which was his way of showing determination. ''If it's a trap, I'm walking in to it.'' He said, as if it wasn't reckless in any way. Just what he planned on doing after that part of the plan remained unclear to everyone else. Ziva reckoned she wasn't the only one feeling _de ja vu_ at that point.

''Wait, boss?'' McGee chipped in nervously. After Gibbs' steely gaze zeroed in on him, he made his point. ''We don't even know if we can trace anything with the earpiece yet.''

''Well then find out, McGee.'' The team leader ordered. ''Take it down to Abby.''

The tech-whiz made to stand up, but winced at the reminder of his damaged ankle. Ziva felt a wave of sympathy for her friend, but appeared to be on her own in that respect. She got to her feet and approached his desk, picking up his crutches for him. ''We will help you get down to the lab.'' She offered kindly. ''Won't we, Tony?'' She aimed an expectant look at her partner, who took a few moments to oblige.

His frown turned into a wide-eyed look of realization after Gibbs gave him the silent signal to listen to her. ''Oh, yeah sure.'' He said a little too enthusiastically. He met his boss' eyes again briefly, which somehow seemed to provide him with more orders. ''And I'll check on how Abby's doing in her little tire track hunt.''

Gibbs nodded in approval. ''No one leaves the building without talking to me.''

''You got it, boss.''

''I can't even walk, boss, so don't worry.''

''You have our word, Gibbs.''

And with that, the three musketeers all left and made their way, slowly, towards the elevators.

Gibbs looked back at Fornell, who had his eyes fixed on the TV screen. They were still reporting on the explosion, and finally had confirmation on the number of casualties. The large font at the bottom of the screen clearly read: _Five Federal agents killed in daylight shootout._ Fornell's eyes could have cut through metal. He was clearly shaken up by the day's events, not to mention fuming. Gibbs wasn't exactly feeling calm about the whole thing either, but at least he hadn't lost any of his people during the chaos. His relief at that couldn't overshadow his compassion, though.

''Go home, Tobias.'' He suggested firmly. ''Go see your daughter. Get some rest.''

The veteran FBI agent sighed heavily, his eyes dropping from the screen in exhaustion. ''I don't think I'll be able to rest.'' He replied in uncharacteristically quiet voice. ''This guy's getting to me, Gibbs. I don't know how we're supposed to get him this time.''

''Oh, we'll get him.'' Gibbs' said in a sure voice. ''I don't care if it kills me, this bastard's going down.''

Fornell scoffed. ''It could kill all of us at this rate.''

He shook his head. He wasn't going to let that happen.

''What does this guy want, Gibbs?'' Tobias asked desperately. ''What's his endgame?''

He considered that for a moment. Honestly? He had no idea. But his gut was telling him that Kaiser's plan- if he had one- was yet to hit any speed bumps yet. He wasn't sure what end this was all leading to, but he suspected the psychological warfare inflicted on everyone so far was set to play a big role in it all.

''I think he wants _this._ '' He theorized. ''He wants us to be rattled. He wants us to fear him.''

Fornell contemplated that for a few seconds. ''Well, If I'm honest, he's doing a damn good job.''

Gibbs grunted. He was unsure of whether it was in agreement or not, though. ''He's arrogant. Reckless. Leaves room for mistakes.''

''Well, from what I've seen in the past, targeting you has always been a mistake.''

He barely raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. God, how he hoped that remained the case. He had a good win/loss ratio against these kinds of threats, but he knew he was far from invincible. Neither were the people closest to him. He'd been reminded of that the hard way over his long life. His mother, his wife, his daughter, Kate, Jenny and Mike Franks had all been symbols of how hard it was to protect everyone he held dear. In fact, he didn't think he could survive another loss. Just the mere thought of losing one of his team- one of his _kids_ \- had his heart sinking.

His introspective thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of his cell phone going off. He reached into his jacket pocket and, after reading the words _blocked number,_ gave Fornell a warning look. Surely Kaiser wasn't calling to taunt them again? He was painfully aware that no one was present with the technical capabilities to try and trace the call. But he had a suspicion that their enemy wouldn't leave himself as vulnerable as that anyway, so answered the call after a few seconds of inner debating.

''Yeah.'' He greeted in typical fashion.

A foreign voice, that he recognized, spoke back to him. '' _Gibbs. I have someone you might want to meet_.''

His gut was screaming at him, as it often did whenever he spoke to this man. ''Kort?'' Fornell seemed somewhat surprised to hear the CIA agent's name mentioned, and walked over to try and listen in.

'' _Let's skip the pleasantries_.''

Gibbs frowned. ''There's nothing pleasant about talking to you.''

He heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. '' _Have I peeked your interest or not?_ ''

''You have. Speak.''

There was a slight shuffling sound now. '' _There's an unconscious man currently lying at my feet called Heinrich Voller_.''

The German name immediately sent a shot of hope through his veins. ''Who is he?''

'' _Kaiser's right hand man.''_

Now his interest was more than peeked. ''Where are you?''

 **...**

It was the middle of the night when Ziva woke up. It wasn't a loud noise that coaxed her from her slumber, or even a bad dream. It was the noticeable absence of the man she went to bed with that had her in this sudden state of unrest. Sure, she'd spent most of her nights alone recently, but that didn't seem to stop her body from being acutely aware that the warmth and comfort it was previously basking in was now lacking. The unfamiliar surroundings didn't help either. His weight, his smell and his steady breathing were the only things that made her feel like she was at home. But now they were gone, and it made her slightly wary.

Gibbs had forbidden them from returning to their own homes after what happened to his, so they all checked in to a hotel to be safe. It was automatically, and silently, agreed that she and Tony would share a room. McGee and Abby were situated across the hall, but it was unlikely they were sharing a bed. Checking into a room with one double bed was also something Ziva and her partner had found themselves doing without thinking about it. But, secretly, she wouldn't have had it any other way. It was highly doubtful that she would have been able to relax in any way without him there.

She was pretty sure they were no longer being followed, and therefore reluctantly agreed to try and catch a few hours of sleep. She had no intention of sleeping through the entire night but, after a few short seconds lying next to Tony in the bed, she realized she was completely and utterly exhausted. It didn't take long for her to drift off. And she slept quite peacefully, until about 3am. That was when she noticed the mattress no longer dipped under the weight of her companion.

She sat up and looked around the room with a confused, sleepy frown. The door leading to small living area was open, so she assumed that was where Tony had disappeared through. She ran a hand through her curls, slowly waking herself up as her eyes fully adjusted to being open. After a few moments, she swung the covers off of her body and slid off the bed. The air was a bit chilly, but she ignored her skin's protest and headed for the door.

Once she stepped into the half living room, half kitchenette, she first noticed how the bright moonlight was shining through the large window at the other side of the room, giving the whole place a soft glow. It took her eyes another few moments to adjust to the mood lighting, but when they did, she couldn't help but feel somewhat enchanted by it. Everything had a certain supernatural essence. The hotel was cheap, and somewhat tatty, but it actually looked quite beautiful when presented like this.

She looked towards the window, and there he was. He had his hand resting on the frame, leaning against it with his eyes searching the city lights that stretched into the distance. He wore only a pair of boxer shorts and an old sweater over his t-shirt, a strange mix by any standards. His face looked frustrated, but somehow peaceful. Another strange mix, and Ziva knew it wasn't a healthy one. He wouldn't be out of bed at his time if he wasn't distressed by _something_. She approached him silently, before arriving at his side.

After a few quiet seconds, he sighed and placed a tired hand on his forehead.

''Are you alright, Tony?''

When he didn't reply, she managed to look up and meet his eyes. There was a vast variation of emotions in his hazel orbs, and it made her chest pang. ''If there is anything you want to talk about, I am here.'' She reminded him in a soft voice.

His mouth pulled up in a brief show of affection. ''I didn't want to wake you.''

''I do not mind.''

He let out another tired exhale, before re-aiming his gaze in the direction of the city below them. ''It's kind of beautiful, isn't it?''

She frowned slightly. ''The view?''

''Yeah.'' He confirmed, with a distant look in his eyes. ''I mean, DC's never been much to look at, but…it's different at night, I guess.''

''A lot of things are more beautiful when you look at them from a different perspective.'' She said in a wise tone.

He regarded her again with an intimate expression. ''I think you have a point there, sweetcheeks.''

The tone of his voice, along with the loaded look in his eyes, had her breath catching in her throat. She didn't think she'd ever get used to him looking at her like that, even though he'd done it a fair few times by now. They held each other's gazes for a few tense seconds, all of which had her heart rate spiking uncontrollably. It was oh so tempting to reach out and pull him into a deep kiss, but she thought better of it. She would much rather get to the bottom of whatever was bothering him, so she could help.

''How long have you been up?''

His eyes dropped to the floor. ''About ten minutes.'' He answered in a slightly shameful tone. ''But I've been awake since we got here.''

She frowned. ''You could not sleep?''

''Couldn't catch a wink.'' He said, slowly shaking his head.

She had a rough idea of why that was. ''Tony, if this is about what happened to Gibbs…'' His expression turned stony as she trailed off. ''You cannot blame yourself. What could you have done?''

''I could've been there for him.''

She tilted her head and sent him a look of admonishment. ''I am sure he has already told you to stop knocking yourself out.''

He smiled slightly. '' _Beating myself up_ , Ziva.'' He corrected gently. ''And, yeah, he has.''

She rolled her eyes. ''Then why-''

''That's not the problem.'' He cut in rather sharply. ''At least, I don't think it is.'' She sent him a clueless look, which seemed to make him feel obliged to explain himself. ''Listen, I've been mad at myself all day. I feel like I've let Gibbs down. Like I've failed all of you. I've been nothing but a pain is the ass during this whole damn case.''

''Tony-''

''I mean it.'' He added in a serious tone.

He was about to turn his head in the direction of the window again, but she quickly lifted her hand to his cheek and forced him to look into her pleading eyes again. ''Tony, listen to me.'' When it looked like he was finally going to stop berating himself, she continued. ''It is not your fault. None of this is. Pretend, for one minute, that our positions had been reversed this week. Would you blame me for everything that has happened?''

His face melted into a longing look of adoration. ''No.'' He admitted in a tight whisper.

''Then stop blaming yourself.''

His own hand came to rest against her shoulder. She hadn't quite realized that she was shivering from the cold until his warmth brought Goosebumps to the bare skin of her arm. He noticed her obvious struggle and started rubbing both her arms to try and warm her up. After a few moments of indulgence, she leaned her body against his and closed her eyes. His close proximity spread warmth throughout her entire body. Well, the inside of it, anyway. She had almost drifted off into a standing slumber when he pulled back from her and removed his sweater. Before she knew what was going on, he was making her raise her arms to heaven as he pulled the fabric over her torso.

''There you go.'' He said softly. ''It's pretty comfortable, huh?''

She couldn't help but moan slightly at the soft, cotton heaven she now found herself in. ''Hmm. It is a little bit too big.''

He chuckled warmly. ''You look extremely cute, though.''

She laughed quietly. ''Of all the words you have used to describe me,'' She said with a smile. ''I think _cute_ is the most annoying.''

He beamed back at her. ''I'll stop saying it when you stop smiling.''

She accepted his playful argument. She _was_ smirking at his compliment, after all. Her smile fell, though, after she fully acknowledged the exhaustion in his eyes for the first time. She placed a gentle hand on his chest. Her own heartbeat somehow relaxed at the feeling of his steady one under her palm.

''Come back to bed, Tony.''

His face went alarmingly blank again. ''I still don't think I'll be able to sleep.''

''You can try.'' She offered, tugging at his hand as she turned to lead him back to the bedroom.

He didn't budge. ''Seriously, Ziva, it's not gonna happen. It was like this last time.''

Her stomach dropped with an intensified feeling of worry. ''Last time?''

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. ''Last time I was poisoned…or drugged, or whatever.''

Ziva suddenly felt her heart in her throat. ''Oh, Tony.'' She exclaimed in disbelief. ''You do not think-''

''Yeah.'' He answered her, already knowing the question. ''It feels exactly the same as last time. I think that pill might be kicking in.''

It took a few seconds for that to sink in. When it did, tears burned the back of her eyes, and she suddenly found it hard to breath. She had completely forgotten about the damned pill. Now her earlier fears of him being driven mad again were multiplied to the power of a thousand. This couldn't be happening again, could it? Was the world really so cruel? She hadn't yet answered her own questions before she threw herself at Tony in tight embrace, pushing her face into his chest with a shaky breath. He placed a brief kiss to her cheek in response, before resting his chin on top of her head. She had this desperate feeling that maybe her touch could keep him grounded. That maybe she had the power, somewhere within her, to stop his mind being steered down the hellish road of insanity again. She knew it was probably hopeless, but she couldn't help but pray.

The world may not have been this cruel, but Kaiser certainly was.

* * *

 **Again, not much actual progress in terms of plot. But, honestly, I still need to decide how to wrap this story up. Thanks for reading, guys!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Oh my god. I really have sucked at updates recently. I'm so sorry. All my friends have gone back to uni now, though, so no more social life= more fanfic writing. To those of you still reading, thank you for your endless patience and I hope you enjoy this. Getting near the end of this silly thing now.**

* * *

Heinrich Voller displayed all the calmness and composure that they'd come to expect from an intelligence agent. Or maybe it was _former_ intelligence agent. At this point, that was still a bit unclear. But, as he leaned back against his chair in interrogation, he completely epitomised patience. For most people, being knocked unconscious in a hotel room and waking up in a federal building would be a somewhat confusing experience. Only a trained spy could just sit there and almost seem bored by it.

Gibbs was simultaneously relishing and dreading the prospect of trying to break this guy. How much information he divulged would probably depend on where his loyalties actually lied. But, even if he was still MI6, previous experience suggested they still wouldn't be hearing much.

In Observation, Gibbs turned to Kort. ''So, he went undercover to infiltrate The Black Sails?''

''We believe so.''

''And then went rogue? Just like that?'' He still found it hard to believe.

Kort's sigh suggested he wasn't too convinced, either. ''That's what London would have you believe.''

His eyes narrowed slightly. ''And what do _you_ believe?''

''Some covers need to go as deep as possible. It's possible that MI6 put out a burn notice on Voller to make it easier to earn Kaiser's trust.''

That had the Gibbs Gut churning. ''Kaiser's crazy, but he's not stupid enough to fall for that.''

''You know,'' The Brit began with a small smirk. ''me and you are agreeing on quite a lot today.''

''I know. It's making me uncomfortable.''

Kort let out a small huff in amusement. ''I think it's time to introduce you to our new friend.''

Gibbs simply nodded, before turning to the door and leading the way into interrogation. Before he reached for the handle, however, he found it opening from the other side. In stepped Vance, a typically flat expression painted across his face and a trademark toothpick in his mouth. Clearly he was in determined boss mode.

''Have you come to watch, Leon, or to partake?''

His eyes briefly flicked to Kort, and Gibbs could see the small surge of anger in them at the CIA man's patronising tone. ''SecNav's been on my ass all day. They want this wrapped up and pushed into the deepest, darkest recesses of our memory.''

Gibbs nodded. ''Understandable.''

''I've come to oversee.'' Vance added, now turning himself to visually analyse their suspect. ''So this is Kaiser's MI6 puppet.''

''Or the puppeteer.'' Kort chimed in.

Vance's eyes narrowed slightly. ''Which one would prove more useful to us?''

''Let's find out.'' Gibbs said, before leading himself and Kort out of the room.

For the first time in this entire case, he actually felt a surge of hope. They finally had a living, breathing and (hopefully) talking suspect. It finally felt like they had a fighting chance, albeit still a small one. He half hoped that maybe this Voller guy would be a selfish scumbag. They were always willing to part with information by cutting a deal. Something told him it wouldn't be quite as easy as that, though.

When they entered the interrogation room, Voller barely even turned his head in their direction. In fact, he continued staring at the table with an expression bordering on contemplation, as if he was trying to wrap his head around a puzzling dilemma. It was funny, really, because Gibbs couldn't help but feel that his opponent's face symbolised his own internal battle perfectly. He had been trying to wrap his head around this whole damn thing.

Voller's voice was calm and smooth when he spoke. Despite the clarity of his German origin, a small twinge of British was evident in his accent. ''Do I not get a lawyer? Or a phone call, or something?''

''Nope.'' Gibbs said simply as he took his seat, while Kort elected to lean in the corner.

Voller chuckled quietly. ''Okay then. How can I help you gentleman this morning? Well, I presume it's the morning, anyway. I haven't had a chance to look at the time since I was knocked unconscious by my bald friend over there.''

Gibbs was in no mood for this. ''Cut the crap, Voller.'' He spits. ''Where's your boss?''

He raised an eyebrow. ''My _boss_?''

''Kaiser.''

He smiled slightly. ''Ah, you mean my target?''

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, but it was Kort who finally spoke up. ''According to our friends in London, you're a double agent.''

''MI6 are not _friends_ with anyone, Trent, let alone you.'' Voller's bitterness was clear, but whether it was towards the CIA man or his old (maybe current?) employers remained a mystery.

Gibbs wanted to keep them on track. ''If you're not on his side, then tell us where he is.''

He stared down the NCIS agent with confidence. ''What makes you think I know where he is? Have you met this guy? He's not exactly predictable.''

''You know him better than anyone.''

Voller seemed to consider that for a few tense seconds, and something in his eyes told Gibbs that this 007 wannabe was yet to show his full hand. ''I suppose I do.'' He agreed eventually.

Gibbs was rapidly losing his patience. ''You're just one phone call away from being turned in to the CIA. Something tells me you don't want that to happen.''

Voller actually had the cheek to smirk slightly. ''Something tells me you don't want that, either. You don't like those clowns at Langley any more than I do.''

''You think I would hesitate throwing you to the wolves?''

His eyes narrowed slightly. ''This is personal now, isn't it, Mr Gibbs?''

''You're damn right it is.'' Gibbs shot back sharply. ''Your boss made it that way when he targeted my team.''

The mysterious spy rolled his eyes. ''I told you, he isn't my boss.''

Kort spoke up again from over Gibbs' shoulder. ''You don't seem to have any problems with following his orders.''

''Does _undercover_ mean nothing to you?'' Voller replied in a somewhat irritated tone.

Good, so they were starting to chip away at his calm persona. This could be the opportunity Gibbs was waiting for. ''Does the loss of innocent lives mean nothing to you, Heinrich?'' His expression suggested a chord had been struck. ''People have died because of Kaiser's orders.''

Voller let out a heavy sigh. Perhaps he was human, after all. ''Countless more innocent lives will be lost if you don't start treating me like an ally, and not a threat.''

''Then you better do the same.'' Gibbs countered sternly. ''You can start by telling us everything you know about him. His real name, his history, his plan, _everything_.''

''I wish I could.''

This was starting to really piss Gibbs off. So this guy wanted to be treated like an ally, but wasn't willing to part with a single piece of helpful information? What was he looking to bargain with? There was no way he- or anyone else at NCIS, for that matter- was going to trust him, so working with him was out of the question. The optimistic side of Gibbs was vainly hoping that he would just tell them where to find Kaiser so he could be apprehended. Of course, apprehended in this case meant killed.

Gibbs was in the middle of working out his next move when the door to interrogation opened. Any angry glare he was preparing to send to the intruder was reeled back when he realised it was Vance. ''I need you for a minute.'' The director's cool voice and blank expression could have been enough to fool most people, but not Gibbs. He could tell just from his boss' posture that something important was going down. With a simple nod, and a steely look at Voller, he stood up and made his way to the door. It was only when both he and Kort had entered the corridor, and the door was firmly closed, that any words were spoken.

''Just spoke to Fornell. FBI found something when they swept Voller's hotel room.'' Vance started, a hint of determination in his voice. ''I don't think he's being particularly honest with us about where his loyalties lie.''

Gibbs was almost tempted to use his trademark ' _ya think?'_ on his boss, but thought better of it.

''There was a briefcase full of money behind the air conditioning vent.'' Leon added.

''Voller's pay package?'' Kort asked.

Vance shook his head. ''It's definitely someone's pay package, but not his.''

''How do you know?'' Gibbs inquired with a frown.

''Tobias said it would be easier to show us. He's on his way now.''

* * *

It was becoming more and more clear that Tony was going loopy again. He didn't seem to be able to concentrate on anything or even hold a conversation. It was a state that Ziva had become all too familiar with over the previous week or so, and one she very much hated. She didn't even want to think about what would happen when he got to the hallucination stage again. All she knew is that he should be locked in a safe room when he did.

They were all in Abby's lab, trying their best to work with what little information had been collected so far. Well, McGee and Abby were, anyway. Tony and Ziva were never great with the computer stuff, not that this was the only factor. The senior field agent didn't seem to be in any condition to work on anything, and his loyal (and somewhat irritated) partner was far too busy babysitting him to be of any use to her other colleagues. God, she was so sick of this.

''Hey, McGoo, what is that flashy light thingy?''

McGee rolled his eyes, not even bothering to glance at Tony, who was peering over his shoulder at the monitor. ''I don't think I could even begin to explain that to you right now, Tony.''

That didn't seem to deter him. ''Have you triangulated that earpiece yet? Or whatever it was you were doing.''

Abby span around from beside McGee and held up her hand sternly. ''Okay, can you stop pretending to keep up with all our technical mumbo-jumbo?'' She asked with a slight smile. ''You struggle enough with it at the best of times.''

He seemed taken aback- and perhaps even offended- at her words. ''I'm not pretending to do anything.'' He said defensively. ''Seriously, I'm fine. No craziness in this brain. I am sound of mind. Completely, totally…'' He trailed off and gazed at Abby with a confused frown. ''Why are you wearing your hair down? You never wear your hair down.''

Ziva was sure she could hear a collective sigh from everyone in the room, except Tony, of course. She sensed that a time for her to step in on the conversation may have been fast approaching.

''Like I said- twice, actually- I didn't have time to do my hair in that crappy hotel this morning.''

He didn't seem convinced, for some reason. ''But how long do pig-tails take?''

Abby ran an exasperated hand over her face, and McGee closed his eyes in frustration. ''Oh my God. Ziva, please help us out here?''

She could hear the impatient exhaustion in Tim's voice, and knew she should get her idiotic partner out of their hair. It was only when she approached him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder that her feeling of annoyance completely disappeared. He looked like a lost child when he met her eyes. He was scared and confused and probably just as frustrated as the rest of them. Yet, none of it was his fault. He was the victim in all this and just needed support, not to be treated like a nuisance or a burden.

''Tony,'' She began softly. ''Maybe we should go and see what Ducky has for us, yes?''

He held her gaze for a few loaded seconds, before dropping his head slightly to stare at the ground. ''I'm doing it again, aren't I? Being a pain in the ass.''

''Yes.'' McGee answered, rather harshly for Ziva's liking. Abby did the honour of slapping his arm in admonishment.

''No, I just don't think we are of any use in the lab.'' Ziva assured him carefully. ''We should just get out their way.''

He considered that for much longer than someone with a fully functional brain would. ''Yeah, okay. You're probably right, as usual.'' He turned around and made for the doorway, but didn't leave before issuing his final senior field agent order to McGee and Abby. ''Call me if you get anywhere, my little hacker squad.''

''We will, Tony, don't worry.'' Abby assured him with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Just before Ziva followed her partner out of the door, she got her gothic friend's attention and pointed at herself before mouthing the words 'call _me_ ' _._ Tony was in no frame of mind to be running things, and Abby clearly got the message, a quick thumbs up confirmed that. _'_ Good luck' were the silent words that left the forensic scientist's mouth, and by God, Ziva was going to need it. The whole team did at this stage.

On their way through the bullpen, a loud and abrupt whistle caught both their attentions. Ziva's head snapped around (about three seconds before Tony's did), and the source of the sound became clear. Their boss, along with Fornell, Vance and Trent Kort, of all people, were all standing around a desk looking at what appeared to be some sort of briefcase. Gibbs flicked his head, gesturing for them to approach. Needless to say, they did it without hesitation.

''Have we got something new, boss?''

Their fearless leader nodded. ''Oh, yeah.''

''What is it?'' Ziva inquired, a jolt of professional excitement passing through her.

''A little present Voller left us in his hotel room.'' Fornell informed them. ''Two hundred thousand in cash.''

Tony's eyebrows raised slightly. ''That's a lot of dough.''

''Could it be Voller's slice?'' Ziva asked.

''Cut.'' Tony corrected with a small chuckle.

''Whatever.'' She sent him a glare. Of course, no amount of drugs in the world would prevent him from jumping on her every linguistic mistake. ''Perhaps Kaiser placed it there for him.''

Fornell picked up a piece of paper from the desk. ''That's what we thought, but then we found this underneath the money.''

He handed her the paper, which turned out to be a postcard with a picture of the Washington monument on it. She sent Gibbs a confused frown before turning it over. She could feel Tony leaning over her shoulder to read it, and tried to ignore the sudden presence of butterflies in her stomach. He could feel his breath on her neck, and she had to fight the urge to push him away slightly. His close proximity somehow made her feel guilty in front of Gibbs. Never the less, she composed herself and read the words on the postcard.

The handwriting was neat, but looked informal. It seemed friendly enough, and yet something about the message seemed unnerving. It was as if there was an underlying threat in the ink:

 _Dear James_

 _Thank you for all the delicious coffee you produce and share with the world. All our friends enjoyed your new recipe very much. I hope this is an adequate imbursement for everything you have done. We have your contact details if any further action is necessary. It would be a shame if it had to come to that. Keep up the good work, my friend._

 _Yours Sincerely, Mr K._

''Mr K?'' Ziva asked with a scoff. ''I can guess who that might be.''

Gibbs nodded. ''We all can.''

''There's no address on this.'' She stated. ''Voller may have been assigned to deliver it to this 'James' person himself.''

''That's our theory.'' Vance confirmed.

Ziva read the words over again, and couldn't help but be confused. ''Why does it mention coffee? Is that some sort of code?''

''Maybe.'' Gibbs said simply. ''It's not much to go on.''

Fornell gave him a slap on the shoulder. ''Well, let's get back to interrogation and squeeze something out of our MI6 buddy. Maybe he can tell us where to find James the coffee guy.''

''Hey maybe he's related to Jay the coffee guy.'' Tony said with a smile. ''Right, Ziva?''

She turned to him when he nudged her with his elbow. ''What?''

''You know, Jay?'' He tried to elaborate. ''They guy who always messes up our orders? We go to his coffee shop all the time, you must've met him before.''

''I, um, do not…'' She trailed off when Gibbs pretty much squared up to her partner.

Tony winced slightly. ''Sorry, boss. Off topic.''

''What's Jay short for, DiNozzo?'' Gibbs asked seriously.

''I don't know. His name tag always says 'Jay'. I never really thought about it.''

Their boss had that look in his eye. It was the one Ziva often saw when he had just done some serious dot-connecting in his investigative brain. He shared a brief look with Vance, who seemed just as clueless the rest of them, before grabbing his cell phone and hitting a number on his speed dial. Everyone else in the room looked at each other in question as he waited for an answer.

''McGee? I want a full list of employees from the 'Pick-Me-Up' coffee shop down the street.'' After a few muffled words from the other side of the line, he snapped, ''Just do it. And print me off a copy.''

''You think this 'Jay' could be working with Kaiser?'' Vance asked. His tone of voice suggested the idea was slightly ludicrous.

''It is a bit far-fetched, Jethro.'' Fornell added.

Gibbs looked up and faced them, his eyes narrowed slightly. ''DiNozzo and McGee were both drugged. Kaiser made it clear that my team were the targets. All three of them.'' They all nodded, following his train of thought carefully. ''But Ziva was clean, meaning she never had whatever the other two ingested.''

Oh god, it was starting to make sense in Ziva's head now. She turned back to Tony. ''You and McGee always go to Pick-Me-Up, but I sometimes get tea from the Thai place a few blocks away.''

Gibbs nodded. ''Kaiser might not have known that.''

''Wait just a second.'' Fornell said confusedly. ''Are you saying that Jay the coffee guy was paid by Kaiser to drug you guys, but he only served McGee and DiNozzo on that particular day, so they never got to David?'' His expression suggested he was having a hard time keeping up with this.

As did Tony's. ''Jay drugged my coffee? And his real name is James?''

''That was why they broke into my apartment.'' Ziva explained. ''They swapped out my painkillers with pills containing Kaiser's drug formula. He clearly wanted to play with _all_ our heads, like he promised you.'' She pointed at Gibbs to signal who she was referring to. ''I am lucky it was made into a crime scene.''

''You're welcome.'' Kort's cocky voice travelled across the bullpen.

She looked over to see him sitting at Tony's desk, leaning back in the chair like he sat there every day. She couldn't help but feel a wave of hatred for the man. He only ever brought trouble with him. Before she could give him a verbal dismissal, however, her partner stepped in. ''No one asked you, Long John Silver.'' He said bitterly. ''And get away from my desk.''

''I say we find out where this guy is, and go talk to him.'' Gibbs suggested, getting back on topic. ''I'm gonna go talk to our guest downstairs first. You guys give that employee list a good look over.''

* * *

It turned out that Jay from the coffee shop was, indeed, called James. With that information confirmed, Fornell, Gibbs and Ziva all headed out to his address in hope of finding him and learning something useful. Ziva couldn't help but feel a little sceptical, though, despite the potential break in the case. As much of a lunatic as Kaiser clearly was, he seemed to be a careful one. This whole postcard thing seemed incredibly careless for a criminal like him. She didn't bother informing Gibbs of that, however. He'd made it clear that, if Kaiser was setting any traps, then he was going to walk right into them. A ridiculous statement in itself.

His loyal agents would always follow, though. Just like she was doing.

''This is the place.'' Fornell said, just as they pulled up outside a grotty looking bungalow.

Gibbs undid his seatbelt. ''Let's go see James.''

They exited the charger and made their way over to the house, keeping an eye on the surroundings as they did so. When they reached the door, Fornell knocked heavily on it. ''James Dawson? Federal Agents.''

No answer came, and Gibbs gave Ziva the silent signal to check around the back of the house. He followed her around the side and past the closed garage door, before something through the dirty windows caught her attention.

''Gibbs.''

She waved him over. A flash of realization could be seen across his face as he squinted through the single panel glass and into the garage. There was a black van inside. She could tell, without the need for words, that this was the getaway vehicle Gibbs told them about from the explosion at his house. Before any discussion took place, they had their guns drawn and primed. They made their way back to the front door with a new found haste.

''Find anything?'' Fornell asked, his hand now reaching for his own firearm,

Gibbs nodded. ''Yep.''

Fornell opened his mouth to inquire further, but didn't have time to get the words out before Gibbs had kicked the door down and swept into the building. Ziva simply shrugged at him when he sent her a questioning look, before following her boss into the house. They cleared the first few rooms quickly, making sure no square foot went unchecked. It was the bedroom at the end of the house that proved to be the game changer.

Ziva saw her boss standing in its doorway, a look on his face that could pass for shock if you didn't know him better. In reality, he was just annoyed. It was only when she joined him that she realized why. There, on the bed, lay James 'Jay' Dawson. Only, he was in no condition to make coffees anymore. In fact, he was in no condition to do _anything_ except rot.

He had a bullet in his head.

Great. This was just getting better and better. ''Damn it.'' She said in exasperation. ''Looks like he _won't_ be any more talkative than Voller, after all.''

Gibbs shook his head in disbelief. ''Maybe we can lift something from the-''

He cut himself off when something at the other end of the hallway caught his eye. When Ziva turned around to see what it was, she felt an icy chill spread through her entire body. It was Fornell, but he wasn't alone. A blank faced, well-built man was beside him and holding a gun to his head. He wasn't the one who caught her full attention, though. Next to both of them stood a man wearing a suit. He had cold, blue eyes and a long scar down the side of his face.

She didn't need any introductions.

Her gun was half a second away from being raised, but Kaiser held up his hand. ''Before either of you try anything, I think you should know that I have the building surrounded…again. Things could get a bit messy if you try and fight.''

Her heartbeat was racing so fast she thought her blood might start boiling.

''Gibbs, don't worry about me.'' Fornell said sincerely. ''Just get yourselves out of here.''

Kaiser rolled his eyes. ''Shut up, FBI, no one's talking to you.'' His mouth formed an unnerving, psychotic smile. ''This is between me and Gibbs. Anyone else who gets caught up in it…may just regret doing so.''

When his soul-piercing gaze switched to Ziva, she could feel the fire erupting in Gibbs' mind. He stepped forward and put his body between her and their foe. ''You're right, this is between us.'' The venom in his voice was enough to make even Ziva fear him. ''No one else needs to be involved.''

Kaiser's smile fell, but the intensity in his stare never faded. He shook his head and tutted a few times. ''No, no, no. Gibbs, I know what kind of a man you are, okay? You love your team more than anything. You are far more scared for their safety than your own. If I have a gun pointed at them, I have you under control.'' His smile returned triumphantly. ''Why would I let myself lose the upper hand?''

Fornell spoke up angrily from his position of struggle. ''Because you're a crazy son of a bitch!''

Kaiser scoffed. ''Oh, I'm crazy? You are the ones who stormed in here with only three agents.'' He turned back to Gibbs. ''Thank you for that, by the way, it made things much easier.'' He reached into his pocket and produced some kind of radio. ''Now, like I said, I have this place nicely locked down. It would be a good idea to drop your guns.''

Gibbs and Ziva shared quick look. ''How do we know you won't just kill us?'' She asked, in as firm of a voice as she could possibly manage.

Kaiser simply shrugged. ''Because that would be boring.''

That didn't do much to reassure her. But, when Gibbs gave her a nod of approval, they both dropped their weapons and kicked them away. After the undignified act, they raised their hands above their heads.

''Very good.'' Kaiser praised. ''You are like my trained puppies. Only, I bet you have one hell of a bite.'' He shot Ziva a wink, which had her almost seeing red with rage. ''Now, follow me.'' He ordered, as if he had any authority over them whatsoever.

Well, Ziva supposed he did in this case.

* * *

It only took a few minutes of tense silence in the bullpen before Tony started getting uncomfortably restless. It didn't help that Kort was sitting at the desk across from him, and it _really_ didn't help that half his team had just gone off to fight war he was also a part of. Loopy or not- and right then it felt a lot more like _not-_ he should be there with them. What if something went wrong? He had no clue why Gibbs thought three agents would be enough.

''For the love of God, would you stop fidgeting, DiNozzo?''

Kort was leaning back with his head rested in his hands, looking as relaxed and self-assured as ever. How could he be? ''I can't help it, all right? I'm a restless guy. We can't all be laid back, bald, one-eyed secret agents, you know.''

Kort simply rolled his one eye. ''Is he always like this?'' He asked McGee, who had previously been keeping a close eye on his monitor.

''Kind of.'' McGee answered honestly. ''It gets worse when Ziva's in the field without him.''

DiNozzo scoffed. ''I like being there for my team. Sue me.''

''I know, and I appreciate that, Tony.'' McGee said calmly. ''But let's face it, you're not comfortable unless you've got your eyes on Ziva's six all the time.''

He'd hit the nail on the head. But Tony wasn't going to start delving into this right now. He went down the safe route instead, the one that would perhaps be expected of him. ''Well, it is a nice six to look at.''

McGee rolled his eyes. ''Oh, please.'' He said in what sounded like a disappointed, yet all-knowing, tone. ''We all know it's more than that.''

Of course it was, but he wasn't supposed to know that. ''I don't know what-'' He was abruptly shushed by his tech-savvy friend, however, when the younger agent's attention seemed to suddenly refocus on his monitor. ''What is it?''

''That's the tracker signal.'' McGee said with a sudden fire in his eyes. ''I think Gibbs' plan is working.''

* * *

 **We are getting there. I know the whole plot is...well, crazy really, but it'll end with a bang. Sorry for the relative lack of T/Z goodness in this chapter. I'll seriously try and wrap this up quickly. No more excuses. Thanks for reading, I love you guys.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks for tuning it again. Starting to get my act together with this story, so here's another chapter. Hope you enjoy (and manage to follow the silly plot)**

* * *

Gibbs knew full well that he was taking a huge gamble. The worst thing was that it may not have been just his life on the line. But, as always with these situations, he was following his gut. This had to work. It just _had_ to. Whatever Kaiser's motives actually were, he had to be stopped. And if this crazy anarchist wanted chaos, he was damn well going to get it.

He rounded the corner and barged his way into Interrogation, ignoring the fact that Voller didn't even flinch upon his abrupt arrival. ''We found the brief case.'' He informed his guest vaguely. It was so obvious that Voller already knew that, so if he even tried to play innocent then-

''What brief case?''

Son of a bitch. ''You know exactly what I'm talking about.''

''You really think so?'' Voller replied with a slight smirk. ''I did not exactly have much time to look around the hotel room when I got there, if you recall.''

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. ''I didn't say anything about it being in the hotel room.''

That made Voller's mouth open, but now words came out. Instead realisation seemed to dawn on the spy's face. ''So you did know about the case.'' Gibbs added calmly. ''That was why you were there. So that's what you do nowadays? Play delivery boy for a criminal lunatic. You should've stuck with MI6.''

''What was in it?''

Gibbs almost punched the table in frustration. So this guy was _still_ trying to be clever. ''Are you seriously going to pretend you don't know that as well?''

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ''Just tell me.'' He implored, though his voice seemed uncharacteristically sincere.

And it was that sudden change of demeanour that made Gibbs hesitate slightly. He decided that simply staring Voller down for a few seconds may just be enough to make him reveal whatever it was that he was hiding. God, he wished this guy was easier to read. He really hated spies. He'd dealt with enough cocky Mossad officers over the years, and these MI6 types weren't much better.

To his surprise, Voller leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. ''Look, you clearly do not trust me-''

''-Ya think?''

''But,'' He held up a finger, pleading to be heard out. ''There is no way of stopping Kaiser while I'm locked up in this room.'' He took Gibbs' raised eyebrow as a signal to make his case. ''He knows my background, and he knows MI6 have been tracking him for years. Do you really think he trusts me?'' He almost scoffed at the idea.

Good. So maybe there was some hope, after all. ''What's he planning, Heinrich?'' Gibbs asked in somewhat hushed tone. ''There's no way you're a cold hearted murderer like him.'' And something in the man's eyes, albeit something barely noticeable, confirmed that. ''He targets innocent people.''

Voller ran a hand through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. ''Okay.'' He said, nodding a few times. ''Okay. I am only telling you this because I know about you and your team, and how good you guys are.''

Gibbs felt a genuine wave of adrenaline-fueled excitement for the first time in the whole case. He wouldn't let that show, though. ''Flattery won't get you anywhere.''

''I do not need it to.'' Voller responded, before leaning slightly closer. ''I am still working for London.'' He says quietly. ''And the only reason I haven't shot that bastard in the head yet is because I have no idea what he's planning, or how many people are involved.''

He gave no signs of being a liar, but he _was_ a trained spy. They knew exactly how to trick you. ''You expect me to believe that?''

''I expect you to do the right thing, Gibbs.'' Voller shot back, much louder than before. ''He doesn't tell anyone what he's planning until he needs them to help execute it. Just like he didn't tell me what was in that briefcase.'' He leaned back in his chair and took another deep breath. ''I want to help you, I really do, but I think we have wasted too much time already.''

Gibbs decided to bite the proverbial bullet. ''Two hundred thousand in cash.'' Voller seemed a little confused by his sudden mention of money. ''In the brief case.'' He elaborated. ''And a note written to some guy called James.''

Buy the look on his face, Voller certainly made it seem like this was new information to him. But then again,trained spy. ''James Dawson, the coffee boy.''

Ah, so that validated their theory about 'Jay'. This was really starting to fall into place. ''The man who drugged my agents.''

Voller nodded. ''I presume you have tracked him down.''

''Doing it as we speak.''

He scratched at the stubble of his cheek. ''It seems a bit too easy, no?''

''Oh yeah.''

He just needed Voller to confirm his suspicions, and he would be able to get his plan on the go. He nearly sighed in relief when his suspect finally spoke up. ''It will be a trap. Kaiser is not stupid enough to leave himself potentially exposed like that.''

''I didn't think so.''

He nodded again. ''So what were you going to do?''

This time, it was Gibbs who leaned forward. ''Will he kill me, or any of my agents, if I walked into this trap?''

Voller considered that for a few long seconds. ''No.'' He said eventually. ''He does not tell me much, but he did say he wants you all to see it.''

''See what?''

He shrugged. ''Whatever he is planning to do.''

And there it was. The huge gamble Gibbs was about to take. He didn't really trust this guy, but he couldn't help but believe him. Maybe he just wanted to believe him, really, because this could be the turning point in the war against Kaiser. He just needed to find out what the terrorist was planning, and then he could go about conducting the second part of his plan: putting a bullet between his eyes.

''So he'll want to capture us,'' He said, making sure this could work. ''Not kill us?''

''I believe so.''

Gibbs nodded slowly. ''Do you know where he'll take us?''

Voller shook his head. ''We try and keep or distance from each other when we're working on something.'' He said simply. ''I do not know where he's based at the moment.''

''If I could lead you to him,'' Gibbs suggested. ''Can I trust you to help us take him out?''

''I need to know what he is planning first.''

''Uh-huh. I get that.'' He insisted calmly. ''But I'm pretty sure he's going to tell me. He's ego-centric, and he's proud of his ability to cause chaos. He'll want to showcase his brilliance.''

Voller, once again, took that into deep consideration. ''You may be right.''

''I usually am.'' Gibbs said flatly. ''So can I count on you?''

He sighed. ''It is very risky.''

''It's the best plan we've got.''

He scoffed slightly, before nodding in apparent agreement. ''I suppose it is.''

* * *

 _Two hours later…_

Tony was just about hopping from foot to foot as he waited for McGee to give to go-ahead. Only, he knew he wouldn't being going anywhere. He was confused and hazy and, dare he say, a little loopy, but he was still sane enough to know what was going on. The boss man had a crazy plan, but it wouldn't require the services of a drugged up senior field agent, apparently. No, they just cast the beautiful, exotic, Israeli partner of said senior field agent for this life-risking role.

Why did he want to punch something all of a sudden?

''I think you need a little lie-down, DiNozzo.''

Hearing the cocky voice of Trent Kort made him change his mind. Now he wanted to shoot something. ''Don't you have Mustangs to be blowing up, or something?'' He asked angrily.

The CIA man rolled his eyes. ''I have an international terrorist to kill, actually.''

''Yeah? Well that sounds a lot more fun than standing around in side-lines while your team are in danger.''

''Tony,'' McGee jumped in tiredly. ''I don't like it any more than you do, but we're hardly gonna be useful to Gibbs in our respective conditions.''

''Speak for yourself, McCrutches.''

McGee let out a heavy sigh to accompany his eye roll. ''I don't even have crutches anymore. It was just a sprain. Maybe you would have remembered that if you weren't on the crazy pills again.''

''Crazy pills?'' Tony repeated in disbelief. ''You say that like I'm some kind of junkie.''

''God forbid.''

Tony turned back to his co-worker with a frown. ''What's that supposed to mean?''

Before McGee could offer an answer, Kort spoke up from Ziva's desk again. ''He means that you're completely insufferable at the best of times, DiNozzo. Drugs only make it worse.'' He even had the nerve to put his feet up now.

''You're not part of this conversation, bowling ball.'' Tony informed him. ''And get your damn feet off my partner's desk, would you? I don't remember telling you to make yourself at home.''

Kort scoffed. ''How would I know that? I try my best to ignore you.''

''Why don't you try your best to stay quiet, you little pain in the ass.''

''Guys?'' McGee interrupted, his eyes now glued to his monitor.

Tony approached the computer whizz's desk and peered over his shoulder at the screen. ''What is it, McGoo?''

''The beacon's stopped moving.'' McGee said with a trace of excitement. ''I think they've arrived.''

That sent a jolt of something through Tony's gut. He wasn't sure what it was, but he didn't think it was a particularly good feeling. All he knew was that the two most influential people in his life were being held hostage by a psychotic murderer. Just the mere thought of it was enough to make his hands clench into fists. He should be with them. He should be with _her._ This wasn't right, not at all. Maybe he should just disobey orders and go with Kort and Voller. Surely he could be trusted more than them, right? But for that strange buzzing noise, he actually felt fine.

Neither of them expected to hear the director's voice enter the frame, so they both jumped a little when it did. ''Any developments?''

He was now standing in front of McGee's desk, tooth pick between his teeth. McGee was the first one to speak up. ''I think we've got a location. They haven't moved in a few minutes.''

''Where?''

''Looks like some sort of abandoned warehouse.''

Vance nodded once. ''DiNozzo, with me.''

He was around the desk and by the director's side in a flash. He knew where they were headed well before they approached the elevators. ''You trust this Voller guy?'' He dared ask, hoping he wasn't the only one in the building who didn't.

Vance hit the 'down' button. ''No.'' He answered simply. ''But I do trust Gibbs.''

The doors opened, and they both stepped on with a new found purpose. After their descent began, Tony couldn't help but ask the other question that was on his mind. ''Don't you think I should be going with them? I'm not sure it's a good idea sending in these spies without there being a trustworthy agent with them.''

''There's going to be one NCIS agent and two FBI agents with them, DiNozzo.'' Vance replied in a calm tone. ''All of which I trust. They're good men.''

''I'm sure they are, but they're not-''

''-Gibbs' men?'' He cut in, turning to face the senior field agent now. Tony simply nodded in reply. ''If you're asking me to put you on the team in your current condition, then you know what I'm going to say.''

Tony couldn't help but a feel a little pissed off at the use of that damn word. ''What condition?'' He asked a bit too loudly. ''I feel fine.'' He added in a more appropriate tone.

''I can't risk it.'' Vance insisted, apparently with his mind made up. ''Not after last time.''

The doors opened before Tony could argue any further, and Vance was marching down the corridor towards interrogation in a split second. He supposed he would just have to accept it. It's not that he didn't understand why he was being benched -he was actually sure it was a good idea, at first. He just knew that he could never have lived with himself if something went wrong while he was sitting around in the Navy yard. That was _his_ team out there, _his_ boss, the woman _he_ loved. He should be with them.

But, seriously, what was that buzzing noise?

* * *

They had left the car, entered some sort of building, and been escorted up a flight of stairs before their blindfolds were removed. Once Ziva's eyes had adjusted to the lights, she gave her surroundings a quick scan. The grey room was empty and run down, and the only defining features of it seemed to be the large television screen on the wall in front of her and the three people tied to metal chairs in the centre. One of which was her. Gibbs was to her right, taking in his surroundings much like her, and probably planning their next move. To her left sat Fornell, who still seemed a little dazed and confused from the blow to the head he received in James Dawson's house earlier.

Their chairs were nailed to the floor, and it was the cold, metallic feeling of chains around her wrists, as opposed to handcuffs or rope. That would make it much harder to break free from. Not that breaking free would get her very far, anyway. She'd noticed two men outside the door and a further two inside the room, all of which must have been Kaiser's hired guns. So she wasn't going to be fighting her way out anytime soon. She guessed, if Gibbs' plan went wrong, that she would just have to rely on her boss' infamous improvisational skills, and not hers, because she was all out of ideas.

She didn't know why, but she couldn't help but feel scared. Terrified, even. She had been in dozens of these situations before, but couldn't remember ever feeling such a high level of fear. When she was Mossad, death and pain never really scared her. That had changed after she'd joined NCIS. That had changed after she'd met all the people in her new American life, all of which taught her to value herself as a human being, not a soldier. If she was really honest, the major turning point head been Somalia. She had charged head on into a suicide mission, and after months of captivity she all but welcomed death.

But then a certain man came to save her, and dragged her back from the abyss. It was that same man who inspired her to change. It was that same man who had her looking to the future and seeing children, white picket fences and happiness, as opposed to bullets and explosions. It was that same man who she had been to hell and back with multiple times. She couldn't help but wish she was with him. His presence always had a calming effect on her, even if he was at her side in the firing line.

Gibbs must have noticed her heavy breathing, as well as the distress in her eyes, because he was looking right at her when she turned her head in his direction. ''You okay?'' He asked gently, his expression showing concern more than anything else.

She took a deep breath. ''Yes.''

''You sure?''

He had that look in his eyes, the one that meant he wasn't just talking about her physical well-being. God, sometimes she was seriously convinced he could read minds. ''I have been in this kind of situation many times, Gibbs,'' She began quietly. ''But, right now, I cannot help but feel…''

When she trailed off, her ever insightful boss helped her out. ''Scared.''

She nodded again, feeling slightly ashamed under Gibbs' stare. ''I never used to be.''

''No,'' He agreed softly, ''But you've changed a lot since those days.''

''I have become weak.''

It was the opinion of herself that she stored in the deepest, darkest depths of her mind, and she hadn't really meant to say it out loud. Her words, however, seemed to spark a flash of disapproval in Gibbs' eyes. ''No, you haven't, Ziva.'' He argued sternly. ''You're still the strongest person I've ever known. You've just got more to live for now.''

It took her a few seconds of deep contemplation, but she did eventually agree with what her wise mentor was saying. She _did_ have more to live for. For many, many years, she was convinced happiness would continue to evade her. But, when she really thought about it, she'd never been happier than when she was in DC. Her surrogate family provided her with a real sense of solidarity and joy that had been painfully absent from her life pre-NCIS. And, again, her mind drifted back to her partner. He, more than anyone, made her happy. It was as simple as that.

And then it hit her.

The reason she was so scared of death was not just because of the future she would end up losing, it was because of future with _him_ she would end up losing. And the prospect of never getting the chance to live that dream was what had her almost shaking. _That_ was what she was living for, fighting for, striving for without ever really realising it.

''You still with us, Tobias?'' Gibbs asked.

From her left, she heard a small groan, but their FBI friend still spoke up. ''Yeah, I'm fine, Jethro.'' He said in a pained voice, ''Where'd Herman the German go?''

''Oh, he's in the room.'' Gibbs answered in typical fashion. ''Isn't that right, Kaiser?''

That sent an unpleasant, icy chill down Ziva's spine. She quickly looked around the room again, and her gut twisted when she saw a silhouette lurking in the shadows at the corner of the room. She knew who that was. She wasn't sure what was more unnerving, the fact that she failed to sense his presence or the fact that he had been stood there this whole time, listening in on them without making a sound. She supposed it didn't matter. She had only met this monster today, but she already found the very air around him to be cold.

His voice, loud and all-consuming, didn't help to settle the nerves. ''Oh, don't mind me, Mr Gibbs.'' He said, finally stepping out of the shadows. ''Please feel free to continue your little heart-to-heart.''

Now Ziva kind of wished she hadn't been so open about the extent of her fears. If she had known Kaiser was within earshot, she would have tried much harder to keep her composure. Instead, this murderous maniac had heard her at her most vulnerable, and now she felt dangerously exposed in her current predicament. The personal information he just learned could easily be used against her.

''I suppose you might be wondering why I'm keeping you alive.'' Kaiser spoke as he stepped past them towards the screen at the front of the room. ''After all, there is no logical reason for it, right?'' He turned towards them, and his cold, blue eyes made the hairs stand up on the back of Ziva's neck. ''We are enemies. And enemies tend to end their conflicts with violence. But, for you, Special Agent Gibbs, I know some things are more painful than death.''

There was a hint of anticipation in his voice, and something about that only filled Ziva with more dread. She knew exactly what caused Gibbs pain. It was the same thing that caused her pain, too: seeing the ones you love suffer. It was the one thing that never failed to get under her father figure's skin. Hell, seeing any innocent people suffer seemed to have Gibbs erupting with rage, let alone someone he cared about. Kaiser had already hurt Tony and McGee by drugging them and playing with their heads, so that was already one surefire way to piss the ex-marine off.

Come to think of it, it was one surefire way to piss _her_ off, too.

It was the sudden wave of anger that had her speaking back to her foe without really thinking about it. ''What, like drugging my friends? How painful do you think that was for us to see?''

She could tell she was being levelled by her boss' gaze, but it was Kaiser's soul-piercing stare that held her attention. She ignored the sudden spike in her heart rate and tried her best to keep shooting him her best, most threatening glare. It didn't seem to have much of an effect, though. Kaiser's emotionless face didn't even twitch. Instead, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly in what must have been his version of a smile.

''Ah, Ziva David, the deadly assassin who moved to America and made a life for herself. What an endearing fairy tale.'' He stepped forward and kneeled down in front of her so he was at eye level. ''You know, an old friend of mine used to have a saying: once a spy, always a spy.'' He scoffed slightly. ''He was a very smart man, so whenever he shared his words of wisdom, I listened to him.''

''Does this little story have a point to it?'' Ziva asked harshly.

He chuckled. ''A tongue as sharp as the knives she wields.'' He said in amusement. ''Yes, it has a point. In fact, it applies to you more than anyone else in the room.'' The way he looked at her now had her skin crawling, and she could see Gibbs' hands clenching from beside her. ''You think that moving to the US and becoming a federal agent is enough to amend your sins?''

She frowned in question.

''I mean, sure, you are doing honourable work at NCIS.'' He continued calmly. ''And I am sure you don't have to fire your weapon anywhere near as much as you did in your Mossad days. But, in my opinion, once you have done the terrible things that you have, there is no reconciliation. You are a killer, you are a spy. That can never change.''

He got up and walked over to where Gibbs sat. ''Once a spy, always a spy. Once a marine, always a marine.''

''Once a psycho, always a psycho.'' Fornell jumped in.

As quick as a flash, Kaiser span around and approached the FBI agent. ''I don't remember speaking to you, FBI scum!'' He bellowed, before reaching into his jacket pocket, producing a gun, and holding against Fornell's head. ''You are lucky to be alive, you got that?!'' He hissed through gritted teeth. ''I could put a bullet through your head right now.''

Fornell didn't even flinch. ''What's stopping you?''

To everyone's horror, Kaiser actually started laughing. ''You know what? I don't actually know. Maybe I'm getting soft in my old age. Or maybe I just haven't decided which part of this room I want to decorate your with your brains.'' His smile fell, and now there was nothing but cold-blooded sincerity in his eyes.

''Hey,'' Gibbs shouted suddenly, ''you wanna threaten someone? Threaten me.''

Kaiser smiled at his nemesis. ''Do you not feel threatened already, Gibbs?''

''Honestly? I've had worse.''

He scoffed in apparent disbelief. ''Than this?''

Gibbs simply shrugged, so Kaiser approached him once again. ''I am targeting your people- your team- and you are sat there as if the whole situation is boring you.'' He put his gun away again as a confused frown formed on his face. ''Baffling. Most people would be pretty pissed off if they were stupid enough to walk into a trap.''

''Uh-huh.'' Gibbs agreed, ''I've walked into traps before, though.''

''Is that so?''

''Oh yeah.''

Kaiser seemed to think that over for a few tense seconds. ''Well, you have obviously survived all of these traps before.'' He said with a shrug, before turning away towards the door.

But, after only a few steps, he scratched at his head and span around with a frown. ''But, tell me one thing, Gibbs. Do your friends- the ones you care about, do they always survive?''

After a few seconds passed without Gibbs replying, Ziva turned to her boss. She wasn't sure how, but it seemed like he had read Kaiser's mind. It was a rare look in her leader's eyes, really, but it never failed to make her stomach drop. Because that was fear she could see in the depths of his blue orbs, and if Leroy Jethro Gibbs ever got scared, then they all should be. It was only she saw his jaw tighten, and his entire body tense, that she looked back to their host. And, all of a sudden, she found herself struggling to breath. Because his gun was back in his hand, and this time it was pointing directly at her face. She looked between Gibbs and Kaiser, whose eyes were locked in a silent staring contest. Her panic levels grew higher and higher as the tense seconds passed.

So would this be it? Would this be how it ended? Executed in front of her boss, as they were both tied up helplessly in a dark, damp hell hole. Her heart squeezed as she pictured Tony discovering the news. He would never forgive himself for not being able to save her. Of course, it wasn't his fault, but that never stopped him blaming himself.

God, she wished she could have seen him. One last time.

There was the sound of one gunshot, but the darkness she was expecting never came. Instead, it was followed by another one. They were coming from outside the room; that much was clear. Kaiser turned around with a confused expression, before waving his two guards to the door. They followed his order without hesitation, but may have regretted doing so. As soon as they exited the room, four more loud gunshots echoed through the building and they both fell the ground in a bloody heap.

Before any of them could really acknowledge what was happening, two men burst through the door. Ziva didn't recognize either of them, but they did have FBI written on their jackets. She'd never been more relieved to see two strangers in her whole life.

''FBI, drop your weapon!'' The older agent shouted.

Kaiser did just that, before slowly raising his hands above his head in surrender. ''Very clever.'' He praised flatly. ''But you will need me alive if you want to know my…evil plan.'' He added with a chuckle.

''Agent Carson, get over here and untie me so I can punch this guy in the face.'' Fornell ordered bitterly.

Kaiser clicked his tongue a few times in disapproval. ''Violent thinking, agent Fornell. I'm not a bad influence on you, am I?''

''My foot is gonna be a bad influence on your ass.''

From over the younger FBI agent's shoulder, Ziva could see Voller enter the room with a blank expression. Kaiser noticed, and shook his head. ''Heinrich.'' He admonished. ''I never did think your heart was truly in it.''

Voller nodded. ''It's over, Kaiser.''

''No,'' Kaiser disagreed, ''Not yet.''

* * *

Tony decided that sitting around in the bullpen was just plain boring. Okay, so McGee was fun to talk to from time to time, but he was no Ziva. There was only so much non-work-related chit chat he could sustain before his computer-tech friend started getting irritated with him. So, here he sat. It had been hours since Kort and Voller left for their little mission, and he'd heard nothing. The square route of jack. Were his friends rescued and brought to safety? Apparently, he didn't need to know. God, maybe he should just go to the shooting range, or something.

He just felt so damn useless.

''They're gonna be okay, you know.''

The sound of McGee's voice startled him somewhat. Since when was he able to read minds? He sighed heavily. ''It would be nice if we could ensure that ourselves, Tim.''

''I know.''

He got to his feet and started pacing, for about the tenth time that hour. ''How long does it take to take down a damn terrorist? I mean, we know where he is, and these guys are trained spies. What's the hold up?''

McGee shrugged. ''The place could be heavily guarded.'' He suggested. ''It may take a while to infiltrate it.''

''Exactly,'' Tony replied. ''That's exactly why more of us should have gone.''

His co-worker let out a tired sigh. ''Let it go, Tony, it's gonna be fine.''

Before he could offer up any more reasons to be worried, a familiar British voice interrupted their conversation. ''Excuse me, I was wondering if I could speak to Special Agent Gibbs.''

Tony wasn't quite sure why the voice sounded so familiar, but when he turned around to face the intruder he froze in surprise. ''Malloy?''

''Ah, DiNozzo, I thought that was you.''

Peter Malloy, the Royal Army Major they encountered three years before who turned out to be an MI6 operative. There was something about the spy that made him particularly memorable to Tony. Maybe it was the confident posture, assured voice and general sense of self-confidence that left an impression. Or maybe it was the fact that he had shared a brief, but enthusiastic, conversation with him about British film. Whatever it was, he remembered the man.

''What are you doing here?'' Tony asked curiously.

''I believe you have a man in custody who is of great interest to me and my employers.''

McGee stood up and walked around his desk to stand next to Tony. ''Heinrich Voller?'' He asked with a frown.

''The very same.''

Something about this had Tony feeling uneasy. ''Why do you need to see him.''

Malloy gave him a look that suggested the question was rather stupid. ''Well, because he's one of the most wanted terrorists in the world.'' When Tony and McGee shared a panicked look, his brow furrowed. ''And I have been sent to collect him and escort him back to London, where he will await trial.''

McGee eyes narrowed as he turned back to him. ''So,'' dragged out slowly, ''Voller doesn't work for you…guys.''

He shook his head. ''No, not anymore. Why?''

Tony shared another brief look with his friend. ''Then we have a big problem.''

* * *

''These chains are too secure. We're gonna need the keys.'' Carson informed them.

Fornell turned his head to face Kaiser. ''Where are the keys?''

The mad man simply shrugged. ''One of my men had them, but now they are dead.''

''Oh, well cry me a river.'' Fornell said sarcastically. ''Carson, search the bodies will you?''

The FBI man walked towards the door way, and that's when all hell broke loose. It all happened in the space of about three seconds, all of which were a blur for Ziva. All she was aware of was the fact that their perfectly executed plan had been blown to smithereens.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Voller lock eyes with Kaiser and nod slightly. It was barely perceptible, but it definitely happened. Her gut twisted, and she knew she wasn't the only one, because she could here Gibbs shout out before she had the chance. It was too late, though. Carson had his back to them, and Voller suddenly turned and aimed his gun in the agent's direction.

One shot. One bullet through the back of the skull.

''No!''

Fornell's cries were drowned out by the second agent, who was too slow to react, being gunned down with equal efficiency by Voller, who then turned to face them with a slight smirk.

''That was easier than I thought.'' He announced to his leader.

Kaiser lowered his hands and chuckled, ''I know.'' He agreed. ''It was actually quite disappointing.''

Ziva could hear Fornell struggling in his chair. ''Son of bitch! I'm going to kill you both!''

''Yeah, good luck with that.'' Kaiser replied with a wink, before turning back to Voller. ''The CIA man?''

''Taken care of.''

He nodded appraisingly. ''Good work, Heinrich.''

''I'm sorry about the dead guards.''

Kaiser shrugged, apparently unperturbed. ''Less salaries to pay.'' He span back around to face Gibbs with a triumphant smile. ''So what did you go for? A tail or a GPS tracker?'' He only got a deathly glare from the NCIS team leader. ''Oh, cheer up, would you? You are not the first person to be played by my friend here. He is a spy, remember?''

Voller stepped forward. ''It was a GPS tracker. Judging by the where the signal was coming from, it is somewhere on Gibbs' person.''

''Smart.'' Kaiser praised. ''And it worked, for the most part. But I am afraid the trap you thought you were springing when you walked into my trap, was actually part of my overall trap to begin with.'' His brow furrowed. ''Do you follow? It is all quite confusing.''

Yes, it was. But, right then, Ziva found herself too consumed by fear and rage to give the confusion any real attention. She didn't have a clue what was going to happen now, but she was sure as hell ready to fight. If these maniacs thought that she was just going to sit here and listen to them gloat about their murderous ways, then they were sorely mistaken. And, if the look in her boss' eyes was anything to go by, he was thinking along the same lines.

They just needed to their hands.

* * *

Tony had had loaded and holstered his SIG, and was busy doing so to his spare gun when he spoke up. ''How's your ankle, McGee.'' He asked with a new found spark of adrenaline in his blood.

His colleague was already on his feet and arming himself before he answered. ''Good enough to kick some terrorist ass.''

Tony couldn't help but smile at his friend's attitude. ''That's what I want to here.'' He cocked his spare firearm and put it in his ankle holster. ''Don't forget your knife.''

''Wouldn't dream of it.'' McGee replied, patting the area where his concealed knife was stored against his ribs, before looking up at Tony with a hint of concern. ''What about you? How are you feeling?''

Tony stopped to think about that, and he supposed the fact that he had to do so should have said it all, really. The truth was that he was well into the crazy, drugged up cycle by now. The truth was that he probably shouldn't be trusted with a weapon, or with any of his co-worker's lives. But that didn't matter. All that mattered was that Ziva needed her partner right now. She was the damsel in distress, and as much as she hated it, she was going to need someone to come and save her. And, sound of mind or not, he was more than willing to play Superman. Hell, he'd done it before, right?

''Honestly?'' He replied. ''I'm feeling a little crazy. Crazy enough to go on the rampage without really stopping to think, you know?'' He pulled a bulletproof vest over his torso. ''Crazy enough to charge head on into a fire-fight with nothing but my gun and my wits.'' He met McGee's eyes and was pleased to see the determination in them. ''I may be drugged up, but believe me, I'm bad news for these assholes.''

McGee nodded, and even smiled at his senior field agent. ''I'm with you every step of the way.''

Tony reached over and placed his hand on the shoulder of his long-time friend and colleague, who returned the gesture in a show of solidarity. ''Let's go save the day.''

''Well then, boys.'' Malloy spoke up from the entrance to the bullpen. ''Are you ready for some real action?''

Tony turned to him, nodding without hesitation. ''Lead the way, 007.'' He cracked as they all fell in step on the way to the elevators.

''Does your director approve of this?''

Tony laughed as he hit the button. ''He might do, after we come back.''

Malloy turned to him with a bemused expression. ''He doesn't know?''

''We'll call him on the way.''

Malloy grunted in amusement. ''You NCIS agents really are crazy.''

Tony shared a look with McGee as they stepped onto the elevator. ''Oh, yeah,'' he said seriously, ''I'm counting on it.''

 _This ends today_ , he thought to himself. _One way or another._

* * *

 **There we go. I know it's just getting dumber and dumber, but hey, you seem to be enjoying it. Thanks for reading and keep and eye on the horizon. More is coming**


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay, this is the longest chapter I've ever written. Seriously, a lot of stuff happens. There's a tonne of action, and two tonnes of craziness. Hold on to your government issued NCIS caps, because a lot of s**t goes down here. I really hope you enjoy it, and please excuse my almost child like imagination.**

* * *

By the time Ziva's brain had managed to process the latest turn of events, she felt nauseated. It was as if she'd just stumbled off the world's most horrifying, dizzying rollercoaster and was now struggling to stop her head spinning. Voller had played them. No, he'd played _Gibbs,_ which was even more unnerving. And now, after it all seemed to go so smoothly, they found themselves in a far worse situation than before. They were in the same chairs, the same building, being held at gunpoint by the same maniac, but now everything had changed.

What the hell do they do now?

She looked at Gibbs, who had sat silently in what seemed to be a shocked state for about five minutes. Well, as shocked as her hardened boss would ever let himself look, anyway. Either way, he didn't exactly look like a man filled with confidence. If, by some miracle, he did have a new plan up his sleeve, then she doubted it was a fool proof one. Something told her they were going to need a miracle. She remembered the last time she wished for exactly that: a miracle.

She also remembered who turned up to her desert cell, all battered and bruised, after she prayed for her nightmare to end. Right now, she was torn between hoping he would turn up to save her again and wishing he would stay away from this monster and be safe. Surely he must know something's gone wrong. When it came to her, he always seemed to just _know._ The only issue was that he may not have been in the right state of mind for his usual partner intuition to be fully working.

She could only hope.

''Things always seem to get so messy with you, Gibbs.'' Kaiser said as he re-entered the room once again. ''I mean, it's always blood and bullets with you.'' He removed a laptop from the bag he'd presumably just retrieved and plugged it in to the screen in front of them. ''Your federal agencies are supposed to be keepers of the peace, are they not? And yet, all they seem to do is create more violence.''

After tapping away at the keyboard for a few seconds, he turned to face them with a typically blank expression. ''Did you know that the United States had one of the highest rates of firearm related deaths in the world?'' After a thick silence, he chuckled to himself. ''Of course you do. But I doubt you blame the right people for it.''

''I blame people like you.'' Fornell spoke up through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving the dead FBI agents on the floor. ''People who kill for no reason.''

Kaiser snapped his fingers and pointed to Tobias with a smile. ''I thought you might say something like that.'' He returned his attention to the laptop for a few seconds, before tilting his head up to the ceiling with a look of deep contemplation. ''I wonder, though, if I have killed any more men in my line of work than you have since becoming cops.''

Ziva could have sworn she saw him lightly run a finger over the scar on his face, but the movement was so quick that she wasn't even sure it happened.

''It's funny, really.'' He continued, his eyes distant. ''You give someone a badge and a government issued gun, and suddenly their personal body count just adds up, no questions asked.'' His cold, blue eyes lowered until he was looking directly at Ziva, and something about the moment sent an icy chill down her body. ''After the number of dead victims begins to stack up to dizzy heights, you stop questioning what they're dying for. That is, until the weight of them…'' He let out a slow whistle, and snapped his fingers once more. ''…falls right on top you. Am I right?''

She knew he was trying to get under her skin, but that didn't stop the onrushing stampede of memories trampling over her brain. She remembered the exact moment in time when that happened to her. When she questioned everything. She shot her brother. The target was no longer a nameless, faceless foe but her own _blood_. That was when she felt a huge weight on her chest that refused to lift. Luckily, a certain liaison position in D.C offered her a chance to escape from that painful world. It didn't erase the past, though, and she suspected it may have actually been her who had the highest body count in the room. And that was a thought that, given the present company, made her nausea ten times worse.

''You speaking from experience, _Kaiser_?'' Gibbs asked with his usual charm.

Their host simply chuckled again. ''You would not like me to start doing that, Gibbs.''

''You know everything about us. Maybe we should get to know you better.''

Kaiser scoffed. ''Well, do you like horror stories?''

There was no response to that, and the way he reacted suggested he didn't expect one. ''I'll take that as a no. However, I have got new one to tell you.'' He continued in a strangely light tone, before hitting a button on his computer.

The previously blank screen in front of his prisoners came to life, and all eyes were on it in a split second. It appeared to be video footage of some sort of conference room, and by the looks of things it was live. Ziva wasn't sure what to expect from this little presentation Kaiser was putting on, but she had a very bad feeling about it. The room in the video had no windows, and there were two heavy duty body guards standing in its only doorway. Everything about it struck her as high profile. Whatever people were destined to be sat around the large table in the middle of the room were of high importance. That much was clear.

What the hell was this?

''This is the setting for my little horror flick.'' Kaiser said, getting back to his feet. ''It's a simple plot, really. A crazy, reckless European terrorist arrives on US soil, bringing death and destruction with him.'' He gestured to himself, as if there was any doubt who he was referring to. ''This new public enemy number one is suspected of using chemical weapons, and the threat level is raised to its very highest among the Washington hierarchy.''

He approaches Gibbs, and makes the bold move of patting the NCIS man on the shoulder in mock comfort. ''A highly respected federal agent is personally targeted in an act of apparent vengeance, and an explosion at his house sends the federal government into a panic.''

''This is all about revenge for NCIS bringing down your little posse?'' Fornell asked in disbelief. ''What were they called again? The Black Skulls?''

''Black Sails.'' Gibbs corrected, his eyes never leaving the face of his foe.

Kaiser nodded appraisingly, before he suddenly couldn't contain a burst of laughter. '' _The Black Sails._ '' He repeated in amusement. ''How lame do you think I am? Seriously?'' He wiped at his eye after his laughter almost brought to tears. ''The Black Sails are no one. Nothing. A fanatical group of idiots who I supplied with information and weapons once or twice.'' He smiled at Fornell. ''I am glad they proved useful in the end. No. No, I have my eyes on far more than just your Navy.''

He stepped back towards the television screen before he started speaking again. ''Now, where was I in my story?'' He asked himself, clearly enjoying this too much. ''Ah, yes, the explosion.'' He remembered. ''After his visit to Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs' house, the terrorist is the most wanted man in the country. But, he is difficult to find, and difficult to predict.'' He turned back his hostages with a raised eyebrow. ''So, what do the DC big-wigs do in a time of crisis, such as this?''

They all presumed the question was rhetorical, but Ziva had a good idea of what the answer was, even before he confirmed her suspicions. ''They do what all powerful countries do. They hold a formal meeting and discuss the situation. Boring, I know, but this is where the exciting part begins.''

Lord only knew what this psycho considered exciting.

''The same person that planted this camera also planted something…a little more dangerous.'' He explained with a small smile. ''Just imagine, the directors of the all the federal agencies gather in once room, but none of them leave alive.''

He turned a cold gaze to Gibbs, who looked as though his head might explode with anger. ''The story doesn't end there, though. When it is discovered that the weapon used to kill all these powerful people was actually made by a scientist working for the Russian government,'' he lets out a slow whistle for emphasis, ''chaos will ensue.''

Ziva felt a dark wave of panic and dread spread through her stomach. All this guy wanted was to start a war? What for? How could this possibly benefit him in any way? She thought back to everything he had done since arriving in the US. Playing with their heads and causing unnecessary carnage, just because he could. And yet, it was all part of some sort of horrific master plan? Maybe he really was just here to create anarchy, and nothing else.

''Why us?'' She found herself asking, without really thinking. When Kaiser looked at her curiously, she decided to try and get some more information out of him. ''Your plan was to start a war this entire time, and yet you insisted on picking a fight with us. Why have you decided that we are ones who should watch this all unfold? Why NCIS?''

He seemed to take a few seconds to consider that. ''Oh, I don't really know.'' He admitted with a shrug. ''You and your team have a reputation. A good reputation. I suppose I thought it would be more fun to use you to gain attention. It was personal, like Gibbs says.''

As far as explanations go, it wasn't exactly convincing, and something about Kaiser's words seemed to spark a flare of life into the previously quiet Gibbs. ''No.'' He said simply.

''I'm sorry?'' Kaiser asked with a frown.

''No.'' Gibbs repeated. ''That's not it.''

Kaiser scoffed. ''I know you are vastly experienced, Gibbs, but you cannot read minds.''

''This whole thing was just a distraction.'' The silver haired agent explained confidently. ''You wanted my team out of the way, but you're too egotistical to just kill us.''

''Egotistical?''

Gibbs nodded. ''You never had a new chemical weapon to test out. You just drugged my team to mess with their heads. You wanted to beat us- to beat me- but you wanted to torture us first.''

The more Gibbs spelled it out, the more it began to make sense in Ziva's head. And, as hard as Kaiser was to read, there was something in his icy cold, blue eyes that suggested Gibbs was hitting the nail on the head, but he wasn't done yet.

''That's why we're here.'' He continued. ''So you can show us your victory. So you can show us how badly you've beaten us.''

Kaiser smiled, but it lacked its usual confidence. ''You speak as if I should be worried.''

''You are worried.'' Gibbs said ridiculously calmly. ''You picked on us because you know we're your biggest threat. But you didn't want to kill any of my team, because you know what would have happened then.''

''You would be even more of a grumpy old man?''

Gibbs shook his head. ''No. We would crucify you.''

Kaiser narrowed his eyes slightly. ''Am I supposed to feel threatened right now? I think you are forgetting who's sat where in this room.''

From Ziva's left, Fornell laughed slightly. ''You see that, Jethro? I think he trembled a little bit.''

''Oh, I saw it, Tobias.'' Gibbs ensured him.

Kaiser looked utterly bewildered. ''Have I missed something here?''

Ziva couldn't help but wonder the same thing.

''Yeah,'' Gibbs told him sternly, ''you missed a pretty damn big factor.''

Kaiser sighed a slapped his hands on his knees. ''Okay, I'm just going to play along with this delusional drama. What factor is that?''

''Half my team's still out there.''

It may have been impossible for the average person to notice, but Ziva was an investigator- and a highly trained one. She could have sworn that a small expression of panic had twisted its way onto Kaiser's face, but it was gone after a split second. Instead, he started laughing dismissively as he made his way over to them again. ''What? The computer geek and the drugged up protégée?''

Ziva felt herself fuming at the mocking tone he used to describe her friends.

''I am terrified.'' Kaiser added sarcastically.

Ziva decided it was time to help wear him down. She turned to her boss with a raised eyebrow. ''He is underestimating them.''

Gibbs cracked a smile. ''Big mistake.''

''Your senior field agent probably doesn't know his head from his ass by now!'' Kaiser bit out loudly.

Ziva sent him a glare as her inner protectiveness shone through. ''Underestimating Anthony DiNozzo will be your greatest mistake.'' She almost didn't recognize her own voice, such was the intensity and bitterness she felt lacing her words as they left her mouth.

He stared down at her with a furrowed brow, and it seemed like he was trying to make a decision about something. He was probably debating the pros and cons of shooting her in the head right there and then. ''Sit tight, and watch the television screen, Miss David.'' He said quietly. ''After the show is over, I will drag agent DiNozzo here myself and slit his throat right in front of you. Then we will see who is underestimating who.''

Suddenly, she was feeling a lot less bold. The image currently burning its way onto her brain was one out of her worst nightmares. The thing was, unless there was a drastic change in fortune, Kaiser could very well carry out his threat. Just the thought of being forced to sit and watch as the man she loved was murdered in front of her eyes was enough to make her chest tighten and her throat close. She looked to Gibbs, silently begging him to have some kind of plan up his sleeve. Anything.

A figure appeared in the doorway, and she felt herself staring daggers at it when she realised it was Voller. ''We might have a problem.'' He informed his leader, in a rather calm tone.

''What?'' Kaiser asked.

Before he could receive a reply, a burst of continuous gunfire, followed by a loud explosion, echoed through the entire building. It all felt rather familiar, but this time Ziva had a feeling- just a gut feeling- that this wasn't another one of Kaiser's tricks.

She had a pretty good idea who was responsible for this.

''The tracking device.'' Kaiser said angrily. ''I thought you removed it from him!''

Voller frowned. ''I did. It was in his shoe.''

Fornell started laughing. ''Oh. I forgot to tell you. I have a tracking device on me, too.'' He received two sets of angry glares. ''Oops, I guess.''

Kaiser made a fist, and starting cracking his knuckles as he approached Fornell. ''Did I ever tell you how much I hate you, Mr FBI.''

Fornell had the nerve to smile. ''What a shame. I was hoping we could be friends.''

Kaiser stepped up to his captive with a smile, but his face transformed in a flash. His teeth were gritted, and his eyes were fiery as he swung his fist into Tobias' face with impossible force. The punch was so brutal that the chair actually snapped itself loose from the floor it was bolted to and fell down. Ziva could have sworn she felt a spray of blood coming from the region of Fornell's face as he slammed down into the concrete with it.

''Tobias!'' Gibbs shouted.

Ziva felt her jaw tighten with anger. ''You're a monster!''

Kaiser ignored her comment, and instead decided to remove his suit jacket and roll up his shirt sleeves. ''Have you ever seen a man beaten to death with nothing but bare fists?'' He asked menacingly. At Ziva's disgusted face, he scoffed. ''No? Well today is your lucky day.''

* * *

''You did _what_?'' Vance yelled out of the cell phone speaker.

''Um,'' McGee said hesitantly, ''we left with Malloy to go and take down Kaiser.'' He explained with a wince.

'' _I got that part, McGee. I want to know why the hell you decided to do that?''_

He briefly glanced at Tony, who gave him the nod. ''Well, it turns out that Voller was, like, a triple agent. We think he played us to help lure Gibbs into a trap.''

'' _So you decided to try and take matters into your own hands? No back up, no plan?''_

McGee winced again. ''Well, when you put it like that-''

''-Give me the phone, McGee.'' Tony jumped in, offering an expectant hand. When he got the phone to his ear, he offered a casual greeting. ''Director.''

'' _DiNozzo, you better tell me what the hell is-''_

''-On our way to kill Kaiser and his minions.'' He explained matter-of-factly. ''The coordinates have been sent to your assistant. Send the cavalry ASAP.''

'' _You think I'm just going to let this slide?''_

Tony looked at Malloy, who was driving them 007 style at a fair rate of knots. ''We're heavily armed and little pissed off. I think we can keep them busy until help arrives.''

'' _Are you even listening to me, DiNozzo?''_

He sighed. ''We haven't got much time. Just trust us, please. DiNozzo out.''

'' _Wait one goddamn second-''_

The cell phone was slapped shut before any further fury could be expressed by Vance. Tony handed it back to McGee without moving his eyes from the world outside the windshield. ''Nicely handled, Tony.'' McGee said sarcastically.

''No time for chit-chat.''

''You do realise he's probably going to have our badges after this, right?''

Malloy turned his head in their direction slightly. ''You have to survive this first, chaps.''

''Yeah,'' Tony nodded, pointing at the Brit agreeably, ''what he said.''

McGee rolled his eyes. ''Whatever. How far away are we? I haven't seen a building for miles.''

''There should be a road on our right leading off into the woodland at some stage.'' Malloy explained.

Just as he took the information in, Tony noticed a parting in the trees to their right as it shot past his peripheral vision in a blur. ''You mean like that one we just drove past?'' He asked, before turning back to face their stand-in driver when no reply came. ''Malloy?''

''Yes, precisely. That turning we just missed.'' The MI6 agent confirmed eventually.

Tony shared a brief look of confusion with McGee, before deciding to voice his new-found concerns. ''Well, are we gonna spin the car around and go back then, or…?''

Malloy chuckled. ''What, and just drive up and knock on the front door?''

''We might want to at least be able to _see_ the front door.''

Before any further debate could be had, the sound of screeching tires assaulted Tony's ear drums as he felt the whole care swerve off the road and into the trees. In the next moment, nothing but the brown blur of passing tree trunks could be seen rushing past the windows of Malloy's Jaguar. The growl of the v8 engine and the clunking sound of rocks and mud hitting the chassis was almost deafening, and Tony couldn't help but lean back and hold onto the handle above his door in a death grip.

''I hope you know where you're going!'' McGee shouted from the back seats.

They could hear Malloy laugh above all the noise. ''Trust me.''

Tony decided that now would be a good time to pull out his sig, and he did so before checking the clip and taking the safety off. He saw what looked like a fence in the distance, and behind it was an old, grey building with very few windows and no visible lights. There seemed to be a man patrolling the courtyard between the fence and the building, and his cigarette fell straight out of his mouth as he gaped in their direction. Apparently, he didn't expect to see a speeding Jaguar heading his way, and he shouted over his shoulder to where, presumably, his colleagues were situated.

Tony turned to McGee to tell him to gear up, but the younger agent was already bracing himself and holding his firearm. ''I should've peed before we left.'' He said as he closed his eyes to try and calm himself.

''Don't go getting scared on me now, mate.'' Malloy shouted, as they ate up the metres between them and their enemies.

''Being James Bond looks more fun in the movies.'' Tony yelled above the sound of bullets ricocheting off the bulletproof windows.

''Well, that's because you haven't got the girl yet.'' Malloy shot back with a grin.

And didn't he know it. This particular girl was far more precious, and far more important, than anyone's ever been to 007, though. Her safety was paramount. He hadn't said it to his friend in the back seat, but he'd certainly thought it. The simple truth was that if he couldn't get her out of this, he wasn't getting out of it, either. No matter what went down here, he wasn't leaving this place without an alive, safe and unharmed Ziva. And if he couldn't keep himself alive or unharmed? Then his last breath would be spent making sure she still got out.

He was fighting for someone else's life today.

''Hold on to something!'' Malloy bellowed as they got within a few feet of the fence.

Tony braced himself for impact, and the loud crash almost burst his eardrums as they smashed through the wire fence and, subsequently, into the two armed guards that were stupid enough to stay stood behind it. The car skidded across the gravel as the two crash test dummies bounced off it with a painful sounding crunch. They didn't have time to analyse the damage, though, before at least five more men were surrounding them from both sides.

As the bullets continued to noisily bounce off the car, Tony noticed that the main entrance to the courtyard was heavily barricaded and equally heavily guarded. Now he could see exactly why Malloy had taken the unconventional route to their destination. Wow, he and McGee were lucky to have this guy with them. He turned to their British ally, and could see him take in the surroundings as well. Only, Tony suspected he was much better at it, being MI6 and everything.

''McGee, pass me my gun.'' Malloy said calmly as he held his hand out.

Tim seemed slightly panicked, but otherwise attentive. ''Oh, sorry.'' He stuttered as he reached down below his feet. After some rummaging, his hand poked through the gap in the seats, and was holding a magnum hand gun.

''What do I look like, Clint Eastwood?''

Tony turned to him with a nod of approval. ''Dirty Harry. Nice.''

''The machine gun, McGee.'' Malloy said tiredly.

McGee eyes went wide. ''Oh! Right.'' He went back down to begin rummaging again.

''See, this is why you're the sidekick, McShort-round.''

Above the sound of bullets and shouting, Tony thought he heard a muffled ''Shut up, Tony,'' before Tim sat back up and the barrel of a heavy duty looking assault rifle (that Ziva would probably have been able to name, but Tony couldn't) appeared through gap in the seats.

''That's the one. Thank you.'' Malloy said as he took it off McGee and loaded it. ''Right, it's time to make a move, lads.''

Tony looked around at the group of angry enemies, which had grown in number slightly. ''You gonna drive around and run them all over?'' He asked with a frown.

''No.'' Malloy said with a sigh. ''The tires have been shot out and the steering rack didn't survive the explosive entrance.''

''I thought the tires were bulletproof.'' Tony yelled.

Malloy frowned, but otherwise remained calm. ''Yes, I keep meaning to talk my boss about that.''

''But, we're sitting ducks!'' McGee all but shrieked.

Tony couldn't help but agree. ''We're dead men as soon as we open these doors.''

Malloy rolled his eyes, before reaching into his jacket pocket and retrieving two hand grenades. ''When I give the go-ahead, I want you both to get out of the passenger side and run for the building.'' He unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted himself until he was sat directly below the sunroof.

Tony wasn't sure what he had planned, but there was something distinctly Gibbs-ish about the way they were just expected to place their trust in him. ''What about you?'' Tony dared to ask.

''I'll cover you.'' He assured them smoothly. ''Just, try and take a few of them out on the way, would you?''

Tony shared a worried look with McGee again, but had already made his decision. ''All right, we're ready when you are.''

Malloy nodded, before pushing a button on the centre console. The sunroof began to open slowly, but he had removed the pins from his grenades before it had even made it halfway. He held one in each hand, and seemed to count down from three in his head, before tossing them in opposite directions through the newly opened gap. ''Now!'' He shouted, before standing up and firing his machine gun at the group of men on the driver's side of the car.

Tony took a few deep breaths, and the next ten seconds were a noisy blur in his already hazy head. Just as two large explosions went off on either side of the car, he threw his door open, seeing McGee do just the same in the corner of his eye, before lifting his gun and firing in the direction of the shocked enemies he could see above the flames and smoke. He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he could see two of them fall down in a bloody heap. It didn't matter, though, because they only had about two seconds before he and his colleague were going to be fired at again.

He was running towards the warehouse's side entrance when he heard the bullets start to fizz past him again. Luckily, Malloy had managed to take down almost all the men in the courtyard with his assault rifle, but Tony wasn't going to be happy until he could find some cover. He burst through the door, but was surprised to find himself tumbling down a small flight of stairs and into a dark, damp storage room. Surprisingly, he didn't feel any serious aches of pains anywhere on his body after he landed at the foot of the stairs. Not until he felt McGee land heavily on top of him, anyway.

Tony yelped in pain. ''God damn it!''

''Sorry.'' McGee rasped as he rolled off his colleague.

They were both panting heavily, but that was a good thing. Panting meant breathing. Tony groaned as he heaved himself up off the floor to lean against the wall. ''You hit?'' He asked, his gun pointing up to cover the doorway they just tumbled through.

''Don't think so.'' McGee replied as he rested his head against the nearest wall. ''You?''

''No.''

McGee let out a few more heavy breaths. ''What about Malloy?''

Tony was aware that the gunfire had died down, but not much else. ''I don't know.''

Just then, a British voice met their ears through the darkness. Only, this sounded a lot more pained than the one they were expecting. And it didn't sound much like Malloy. ''I don't suppose you ran all the way here again, DiNozzo?''

Nope. Definitely not Malloy. ''Kort?''

''What's left of him.'' He replied after a few pained coughs.

Tony was never happy to hear that man's voice, but he'd also never heard it like this. That sounded like genuine human suffering, and it was coming from Trent Kort. ''McGee, cover the door.'' He didn't wait around for a reply. Instead, he approached his old nemesis cautiously. And sure enough, a bald head could be seen in the shadows. It was bowed down, and glistening with sweat. It was only when Tony squatted down and placed a hand on Kort's shoulder that the one eyed man finally looked up.

Only he wasn't one eyed anymore. In fact, he was horrifically _no-_ eyed. ''Oh, my god.'' Tony exclaimed.

''What is it?'' McGee asked over his shoulder.

Before Tony could reply, Malloy appeared at the top of the stairs and slammed the door shut. As the room went completely dark, the bloody, disturbing sight of Kort's maimed face disappeared. The pitch black didn't last for long, however. After a few flickers of brightness, the old lights shone over the room, revealing it fully for the first time. Tony turned back towards the entrance and was happy to see that Malloy had seemed to make it through the fight without injury.

''Everyone still with us?'' The Brit asked from beside the light switches.

McGee gave him a sure nod. ''Yeah, we're good.''

''What's it looking like out there?'' Tony asked.

Malloy made his way down the steps, and Tony could just about pinpoint the exact moment his eyes found Kort, but he showed no sign of surprise. ''I managed to take out most of his men. I noticed a few more of them head to the front entrance, though, so don't get comfortable.'' He reached the bottom of the stairs and gave McGee a pat on the shoulder, before turning his attention back to Tony. ''Who's our fallen Conrad over there?''

Tony glanced at the blinded CIA man again. ''Trent Kort. Have you not met him before?''

''Oh, yes,'' Malloy said calmly, ''I've met Kort before. But I wasn't talking about him.''

Just as Tony turned back with a furrowed brow, he noticed that both his companions had their eyes glued to something in the other corner of the room. He got to his feet and looked over through the rotting, empty crates and piles of junk to see what they were looking at. And sure enough, there was body lying on the floor. The pool of blood surrounding her, along with the fact that her chest wasn't rising and falling, suggested that she was dead.

They approached the fallen agent, who still had the NCIS jacket on, and Tony's heart twisted when he saw that her blond hair had blood soaked into it. She had a single bullet hole in the head, and she her body had been tossed down here with all the trash. Discarded, like some kind of dead rodent. God, if he wasn't angry enough before…

''That's Emma Lombardo.'' McGee said sadly. ''I used to see her in the gym all the time. She was always nice to me.''

''And they murdered her and left her here to rot.'' Tony bit out angrily. ''Animals.''

Malloy rested his hand on Tony's shoulder in sympathy. ''Poor woman.''

''We should never have trusted Voller.'' McGee sad regretfully.

Tony felt a surge of rage shoot its way up his entire body. ''We didn't. Gibbs did.'' He turned away from agent Lombardo's body and marched back to where Kort was sat. It was only when he gave the CIA agent a more thorough inspection that he realised there were two bullet holes in his chest, as well as the new one in his face. Clearly he was supposed to be another dead body rotting amongst the debris.

He crouched down in front of him again. ''What the hell happened, Kort?''

It was hard to tell, but it seemed like his words had brought the bald man back to consciousness. ''Voller.'' He replied with a pained wince.

''He did this?''

A nod.

''He shot you? And he killed Lombardo?''

Another nod.

Tony sighed, and locked eyes with McGee briefly as he and Malloy came over to them. ''What about the FBI agents? Carson and Jones?'' Kort didn't seem to be focusing too hard on speaking, and Tony couldn't blame him. But he needed answers, while he could still get them. ''Kort?''

He grunted slightly. ''Probably dead.''

''And, um,'' Tony winced slightly, but he had to know. ''What happened to your eye?''

He could tell by the shape of Kort's mouth that the dying man was scowling. ''Voller's good with a knife.''

That was all Tony needed to know, and a glance at his wincing colleague suggested McGee had heard enough about that, too. Luckily, Malloy stepped in to take over the questioning. ''How many men are there?''

''Peter Malloy,'' Kort slurred with a tilt of his head, ''late for the party, as always.''

Tony didn't want him wasting his last breaths. ''Answer the question, Kort.''

He coughed a few times after what could have been an attempted scoff. ''About twenty, maybe.''

McGee turned to Malloy. ''You remember how many we took out?''

''I took out ten. You boys took out two.''

Tony glared at him. ''No need to show off.''

''Wow, you managed to keep count?'' McGee asked in surprise.

Malloy simply shrugged. ''It's what I do.''

Kort's pained voice met their ears again. ''They have your people on the top floor. If they're still alive.''

Tony didn't even think about an alternative. ''They are.''

Malloy loaded another magazine into his assault rifle. ''We'll have to fight our way up to them. Hope you're ready for some more loud bangs.'' He looked at them, but his face fell slightly when silence fell between them all. ''We're about to have company.'' He warned them suddenly.

Tony had worked with Ziva long enough to know that these kind of people should be listened to. ''How many?''

''Can't tell. But they're coming from the above us.''

McGee looked around the room, and seemed to spot something at the far end of the room. ''Looks like there's a doorway over there. Maybe it's a stairwell?''

They all looked over in its direction, and yes, it did look like there was a set of metal steps on the other side of the small window on the door. And then Tony heard it. The unmistakable sound of boots on metal. It was consistently echoing through the room now, and it was definitely coming from the direction of that door. They were about to have another encounter with Kaiser's henchmen, and he doubted this one would be as successful without the element of surprise.

''What do we do?'' McGee asked as he gripped his gun.

Malloy puffed his cheeks. ''That's our way forward. I told you we'd have to fight our way through.''

''And I told you that wasn't going to work.'' Tony hissed.

''No you didn't.''

Oh. He may have had a point. ''Well, I'm telling you now.''

Kort groaned, and probably tried to roll his non-existent eyes. ''Shut up, DiNozzo.''

''Are you still here?''

''Barely.'' He replied with a heavy breath. ''Malloy, leave me a gun and whatever explosives you have left.''

Tony scoffed. ''What are you gonna do, Daredevil? Spray and pray?''

Malloy didn't seem to be as surprised by Kort's supposed plan as the other two were. ''Code black?'' He asked calmly, and he received a nod from the recently blinded man. ''That only works when the rest of us retreat.''

''Wait, what's Code Black?'' Tony asked, all too aware that their enemies were getting closer by the second. He half expected to hear a hail of bullets travel across the room before this conversation ended. Seriously, they had to move. Preferably in the direction of their captive friends.

Kort grunted again. ''You will retreat. Back the way you came.''

''That doesn't make any sense.'' Malloy said impatiently.

''There's a fire escape around the corner.'' Kort explained quickly. ''It should lead to the top floor.''

Tony was beginning to catch on. ''They're expecting us to stay in the building. If we go up the fire escape, then we can regain to element of surprise.''

Kort forced a pained smile. ''Gold star, DiNozzo.''

Malloy nodded. ''I say two of us go round to the front entrance, and one of us goes up the fire escape. That way their fire will be drawn in one direction.'' He looked back towards the stairwell at the far side of the room. ''I'm probably the quietist, so I'll go up the-''

''-Now way. Nu-uh.'' Tony interrupted with a wave of his finger. ''I'll go.''

McGee turned a frown to his co-worker. ''Tony, I think we should listen to trained spy here.''

Tony shook his head again, before pointing to Malloy with a serious expression. ''We need _you_ to be wherever the most action is because, well, you're pretty damn good. And _you,''_ He pointed a stern finger at McGee this time, ''are afraid of heights.'' It looked they both opened their mouths to argue, but then they tilted their heads in consideration. ''Exactly. Now let's move.''

''Okay,'' Malloy agreed, before crouching down in front of Kort and placing three grenades, a pack of C4, and the magnum from earlier in his lap. ''Code Black is a go, Trent.'' He glanced to Tony and McGee briefly, before sighing and patting the CIA man's shoulder lightly. ''Best of luck, mate.''

''You have thirty seconds.'' Kort slurred.

''I still don't get what Code Black is.'' McGee admitted as they rearmed themselves.

''I'll explain it later.'' Malloy promised. ''Now, run!''

Tony didn't need to be asked twice. It wasn't because he saw Malloy as some sort of respected leader or men. No. In fact, it was the sound of the door bursting open at the other end of the room that had all three of them sprinting in the direction of their previous entrance. The sound of gunfire and ricocheting bullets followed them as they each leaped up the steps and burst out into the open once again. He was relieved to have made it without being hit, but was less relieved to find himself running straight into a solid human being on the other side of the door.

He tumbled to the ground with his foe and found himself wrestling to keep a machine gun out of his face. Apparently, there were two men preparing to enter the building this way, and the one who wasn't grappling with Tony had Malloy's knife stuck in his throat before he could even raise his weapon. The MI6 agent then proceeded to end the WWE match by throwing Tony's opponent off of him and firing a single, deadly shot into the man's forehead.

Before Tony could show his gratitude, or even get to his feet, they were all blown to the ground by a loud and powerful surge coming from the door behind them. The explosion was so unexpected for Tony, that he found his ears ringing at an almost unbearable level. He could see McGee holding his ears and shouting on the ground next to him, but there was no way in hell any words were making their way through the racket in Tony's head. It took what felt like minutes to even hear anything other than white noise.

'' _That_ was Code Black.'' Malloy shouted down to him as he offered a hand.

Tony took it, and was heaved to his feet. ''Thanks for the damn warning.''

''If we stood around talking for a few seconds longer, we would all be dead.'' Malloy explained as loudly as he could without shouting. ''As is so happens, only Kort is.'' He tilted his head in reconsideration. ''Well, and whoever else was in the room with him.''

''Not to mention tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, here.'' Tony added as he gestured towards the two dead men at their feet.

''Yes, and them. Quite a success, don't you think?''

McGee groaned as he got back up. ''If I can still hear by the time I'm forty, it'll be a miracle.''

''It's not a success until the job's done.'' Tony said, only a little bit ashamed of how much he sounded like Gibbs.

Malloy nodded. ''Correct.''

''We better move fast.'' McGee added, still wincing at the pain in his ears.

Malloy crouched down and picked up the machine gun from one of the dead henchmen, before doing the same for the other one and handing it to McGee. ''Here, you might need this.''

McGee seemed to hesitate, but decided to accept the offer eventually. ''I haven't had much practice with automatic weapons.'' He admitted. ''And I'm definitely no 007.''

Malloy shrugged. ''Me neither. Just aim and shoot.'' He turned to Tony with what looked like a soft expression, but it was hard to tell with his guy. ''We'll see you on the other side, DiNozzo. Good luck.'' He held out his hand, and Tony nodded as he reached over to shake it. ''If you have the shot, don't hesitate.''

Tony swallowed. ''I won't.'' He took a deep breath a locked eyes with McGee briefly. ''You take care of my probie, all right? I'm not losing any more agents today.''

Malloy nodded. ''You have my word.''

''That includes you, Tony.'' McGee said with a raised eyebrow.

Tony nodded, despite the fact he wasn't making any promises. ''Okay. Let's do this.''

He turned away and headed round the corner before any more time was wasted, and before he felt any more hesitation at leaving his team mate behind. He wasn't sure if he was glad to hear the two sets of footsteps heading in the opposite direction, or worried. His probie wasn't a probie anymore. He was a fully trained, highly loyal, brave federal agent who would walk through walls for his friends. Tony knew that he didn't even need to ask McGee to step into the line of fire with him anymore, there's no way the younger man would stand for that. He couldn't help but feel guilty, though. Tony was always willing to throw away his life for his team and, now, he was fairly certain he'd involuntarily taught Tim to have the same mind set.

He reached the bottom of the fire escape and didn't hesitate to start climbing up. He made sure that there were no armed enemies in the vicinity as he made his way from storey to storey. He was only a little bit concerned that his ears hadn't stopped ringing yet. Or that he was finding it hard to concentrate on the rungs of each ladder as they blurred in front of his eyes. Hell, even that buzzing noise he'd been hearing all day seemed to still be following him around, like a giant wasp had burrowed its way into his brain. He fought through it, though.

His team needed him. Ziva needed him.

* * *

Another loud thump preceded the grunt of pain coming from Fornell. Ziva kept struggling to break free and help their FBI friend, but it was no use. Her bonds were painfully, solidly, _torturously_ strong. She knew that Gibbs was doing the same as her by now, but the lack of dead Kaiser told her he was having no luck, either. She was painfully aware that Fornell wouldn't survive too many more hits. He was still conscious, but Kaiser was only holding back. He could finish him off at any point, if he decided to.

He wanted his audience to suffer.

''Still conscious are we, Mr Tobias?'' He shouted, and he almost seemed to be frothing at the mouth. ''Your face will break before my knuckles do, believe me.''

Gibbs scowled and gritted his teeth. Ziva didn't think she'd ever seen her boss' face so red. ''You like beating on helpless opponents?'' He shouted. ''Unlock my chains, and we'll see how you do in a real fight.''

Mercifully, Kaiser stepped away from Fornell with an angry glare. ''I would do. But I need you alive to see this.'' He gestured towards the screen in front of them, where a few more suited directors had started to take their seats in the conference room.

''You think your plan is still gonna happen?'' Gibbs asked in disbelief. ''Whoever's killing your guys down there might have something to say about that.''

Kaiser rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh. ''The gunshots have stopped, Gibbs, and I'm still here. Your saviours are all dead. You continue to bore me. I mean, seriously, did you think-''

Before any more words could come out of his toxic mouth, Kaiser was silenced by the sound of another explosion. This one, however, was huge. Massive, in fact. The whole building shook, and the TV screen even fell from its bracket. The slight ringing in Ziva's ears was replaced by the sound of the screen smashing. Hell, even every window in the building sounded like it smashed from the force of this explosion.

Well, that seemed to shut him up.

Ziva didn't even have time to enjoy Kaiser's shocked face before her stomach suddenly dropped. What if Tony and McGee were in that explosion? Or even in the vicinity? She suddenly felt even more desperate to break free and do something. Anything. She felt so damn useless in this stupid chair. She tried to shake her chains off her wrists again, but was soon distracted by the re-appearance of Voller in the doorway.

''They've broken through the main entrance!'' He informed his boss in a panic.

Kaiser looked up to the heavens in disbelief. ''What was that noise?''

''They blew up the basement.''

''Why would they do that?''

Voller seemed to hesitate slightly. ''We had four men down there.''

Kaiser scoffed. ''Good god.'' He stepped towards the broken TV, and took everyone by surprise when he cried out in anger and kicked what was left of it. ''Do I have to come down there and kill them myself?''

Voller winced slightly. ''We could do with an extra gun.''

''An extra-'' Kaiser cut off his exasperated mimic with a sigh, and ran a hand over his forehead. ''If any of our men survive this, I want to shoot them myself.''

''Yes, sir.''

Kaiser nodded and made his way towards the doorway. But, just before he left, he turned back to Ziva with something unreadably cold in his expression. If she wasn't unnerved before he spoke, she definitely was afterwards. ''Keep agent DiNozzo alive for me.'' He called after his right-hand man. ''I have something special planned for him.''

Ziva's blood boiled, and her wrists ached as she tried to break free and chase him down. She let out an anguished cry as her foe disappeared from view. She knew it was exactly what he wanted, but she couldn't help it. She was on the verge of hysteria, and her head may well have exploded before she could see how this all ended.

Looking at her boss, she could tell he was thinking the same thing.

* * *

McGee threw himself into cover, and looked over to Malloy at the other end of the wide entryway. They'd already taken out another five men on the first floor. Admittedly, Malloy had taken out four of them. But, hey, who was the trained spy here? He thought he was doing pretty damned good. The fact that there were at least another three men on the second level made Kort's estimation a lot less accurate. But, with Malloy at his side, these assholes could bring it on as far as McGee was concerned.

The trained spy in question fired a few more shots down the hallway, and the deathly cry of pain that followed suggested he'd taken out another one. ''McGee! Forward.'' He ordered, leaving no time for debate as he shot off to his next piece of cover.

The NCIS agent followed without hesitation (something he'd learned to do after the first floor, as this guy's timing seemed almost impeccable). When he saw the head of another hostile poke out from behind a wooden crate, he lifted his adopted machine gun and fired a few clinical shots in that direction. He just about saw the man's head decorate its surroundings with blood before he ducked down into cover himself.

''Good bloody shot.'' Malloy praised.

McGee let himself smile. ''Thanks. I guess all those hours on Call of Duty paid-''

He was cut off by a bullet loudly skimming the top of box he was leant against. Okay, _that_ was pretty close. He was going to shut up now.

Malloy peered around his own cover. ''That's a sniper rifle.''

''What?! Where?''

He narrowed his eyes slightly. ''Right at the end of the corridor. He's using an old bookshelf as cover.'' He tilted his head in consideration. ''Not what I would go for, but these chaps don't exactly seem highly trained.''

''I don't know,'' McGee said unsurely, ''that was pretty close to my head.''

''Well, you have got a rather large head.''

''Hey!''

Malloy chuckled lightly. ''Only pulling your leg, mate.'' He peered around his cover once again, before leaning back and reaching into his jacket pocket. ''I was hoping I'd need to use this. These things are bloody heavy.''

''Another grenade? It's kind of far, don't you think?''

''Ah,'' Malloy began with smile, ''that's why this is a smoke grenade.''

Oh, that made a lot more sense.

''I just need to get close enough to take him out.''

McGee nodded. ''Okay. What do you need me to do?''

''After I throw it, I need you to keep him busy.'' Malloy said quietly.

That didn't sound as clear cut as he'd hoped. ''You want me to get him to shoot at me?''

Malloy hummed in consideration. ''Not necessarily. Though, that may still happen.'' He pulled the pin on the smoke grenade, ''just fire at him.'' And with that, he tossed it down the hallway. After a sufficient amount of smoke had filled the area, Malloy started crawling towards their sharpshooting friend. McGee took that as his cue to 'keep him busy.'

He got to his feet and fired down the corridor, trying his best to avoid looking at Malloy's prone figure in fear that he might accidentally shoot him. Unsurprisingly- but rather scarily- the sniper started shooting through the artificial mist in any old direction. A few high calibre rounds fizzed past McGee's shoulder, but he kept as much of his body in cover as he could. It was only after a third gun entered the shootout, that silence suddenly fell.

''Got him.''

At first, McGee was delighted to hear that their little plan had worked. And, honestly, what else should he have expected with this guy? However, something about his teammate's voice sounded off. It was almost as if the British man was trying to hide the pain lacing his tone. When McGee approached Malloy as the smoke started clearing, he found out why that was.

''You're hit.''

Malloy rolled onto his side and looked down at the back of his thigh, which was leaking blood at an alarming rate. ''Unlucky ricochet.'' He stated calmly, though he couldn't hold back his wince. ''Nothing a bandage can't temporarily fix.''

McGee wasn't convinced, but thought better than to argue with him. He needed thig guy, after all, and they'd got so far. There was no way they could turn back now because of a stray bullet. It did look painful, though, and Malloy groaned slightly as he removed a small pack of bandages from his pocket and wrapped one around his wound a few times. When he got back to his feet, his teeth were clenched but he seemed otherwise ready to go.

He started limping to the end of the hallway, passing three dead bodies on the way, before stepping into a large room with what looked like a heavy-duty cargo elevator at the far end. Well, it certainly used to be, anyway. There was no way that thing still worked. Luckily, the stairwell offered a nice alternative. There was no chance of mechanical failure with good old fashioned stairs. McGee headed straight for them, but Malloy's hand suddenly shot out to hold him back by the elbow.

''Wait.'' He whispered. ''Did you hear that?''

''Hear what?''

Malloy's eyes drifted over to the darkened corner below the stairs, and something seemed to have him visibly alerted. Before McGee could ask what it was, he was thrown down behind a pile of old filing cabinets as the all too familiar sound of gunfire sounded through the stale air. He heard the click of what sounded like and empty assault rifle before Malloy slumped down next to him with another pained wince.

''Sneaky bastard.'' He bit out through a clenched jaw.

McGee took some time to catch his breath. ''Who was that?''

''Voller.'' Malloy said bitterly. ''Got me right in the bulletproof vest.''

A quick scan made it clear that it was a bit worse than that. ''And your shoulder.''

Malloy looked down at his shoulder, which had a 9mm sized gash in it, and grunted in surprise. ''Oh, yes. There too.''

McGee rolled his eyes at the stupidly casual manner in which this man dealt with serious injuries. Why was he always fighting alongside hardened tough guys? He supposed he should really be grateful, if he thought about it. It would just be nice for someone to admit they're seriously hurt every now and then. His tangential thoughts came to an abrupt end when he heard a cold, loud voice echo through the room.

''Heinrich, are they dealt with?''

''Almost.'' Voller replied calmly.

He knew who Heinrich was, and he had to assume the authoritative sounding one was Kaiser. Suddenly, McGee found himself itching start firing off bullets in their direction. He looked at Malloy with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, but the British man just shook his head.

''How many are there?'' Kaiser asked.

They could hear Voller reloading his gun as he replied. ''Just two.''

''DiNozzo and McGee?''

There was a brief silence before Voller replied again. ''It is McGee and an old colleague of mine, I believe.''

McGee and Malloy locked eyes again and shared a worried look.

''There is no way DiNozzo didn't come with them.'' Kaiser said surely. ''Are you sure you didn't see him?''

''Positive.''

He grunted in surprise, before another spell of silence fell over the room. It didn't last too long, however, before a loud cackle could be heard rattling from Kaiser's chest. ''Very clever, my friends.'' He yelled down to them. ''You were to draw our attention and allow DiNozzo to sneak up and free his beloved colleagues. I like how you think, really I do. Very sneaky.''

McGee cursed to himself, and felt a wave of adrenaline pass through him. Maybe if he sprang into action quickly enough he could take them both out. How hard could it be? They were just standing there talking. Malloy, once again, seemed to read his mind, though. He shook his and mouthed a quiet 'wait'. Well, at least he seemed to have something planned. It would have been nice to know what it was.

''What do you want to do?'' Voller asked, not even bothering to try and be quiet about it.

It was an arrogance his boss seemed to share, too. ''I'll go back and deal with agent DiNozzo, and the rest of our guests. There is no longer any point in them drawing breath. I trust you can deal with these two clowns?''

''I can handle it.''

''That's what our small army of men thought.'' Kaiser said warningly.

Voller grunted in amusement. ''They were basically amateurs.''

''Whatever you say. '' Kaiser said dismissively. ''Goodbye Agent McGee! It was a shame we could not meet. I'll be sure to give your friends a hearty farewell on your behalf. Right before I kill them, that is.''

His voice grew more and more distant as he finished his final promise, and McGee was more than willing to chase him down and blow him away. The only problem was that Voller was still in the way, and he may have been infuriatingly arrogant, but probably had good reason to be. Especially if he was half as deadly as Malloy was. The MI6 agent didn't look like he was moving any time soon, but he looked as though he was keeping an ear out for their foe, which meant he wasn't slipping into unconsciousness, or anything like that.

''You have caused us quite a bit of trouble, Peter.'' Voller's voice bounced off the walls in a taunting murmur. ''But why drag a poor little federal agent into this? His blood will be on your hands.''

McGee looked back to Malloy, whose brow had furrowed with curiosity.

''And, we all know that the brave face you put on is just a façade.'' Voller continued cockily. ''We all know how much you care about losing a team mate. Maybe not as much as Agent McGee cares about his team mates, but that is different.''

McGee felt his fists clench as the venomous words kept dripping out of his mouth.

''You see, these NCIS types, they care for each other like family. And Timothy is about to lose his entire family.'' Voller chuckled, and McGee had almost reached the end of his patience. ''I mean, honestly, is there any point in surviving this? You will only have to bury every, single one of them.''

That's it. McGee knew what he was going to do, and it involved his machine gun and Voller's head.

''That's if,'' The slimy terrorist with a scoff, ''my boss leaves enough of them to bury.''

McGee sprang into action without really thinking it through. He could just about hear Malloy crying ''No, wait!'' as he sprang to his feet, leaned around the nearest cabinet and began firing his weapon towards the stairs. He didn't realise how stupid this was until after he noticed that Voller wasn't standing anywhere near the foot of the stairwell anymore. In, fact he wasn't anywhere in McGee's field of vision.

Well, not until a fist came flying around from the other side of the cabinet, anyway.

It caught Tim square in the jaw, and he didn't have time to react before an elbow from the same arm collided with his temple and sent him to the ground. As he regained his bearings, and gazed upwards through the haziness, McGee could see Voller standing over him. He was smiling in that way only a crazy person could, and had his pistol pointed directly at Tim's head. The machine gun had been kicked well out of reach. Generally speaking, that went very, very badly.

McGee closed his eyes and braced himself for a quick death, but the next sound he heard wasn't a gunshot. No, instead it was the sound one of the nearest filing cabinets clashing into Voller with a loud thud. When he reopened his eyes, Tim saw two sets of flying limbs toppling over the metal frame. Apparently Malloy was back to his feet. Or _was_ , anyway. Because now he was in a good old fashioned scrap with his opponent.

McGee made a quick dash to where his machine gun lay, but heard a loud bang before he could get there. It wasn't the noise that knocked him to ground, though. It was actually the sudden, sharp pain he felt in his shoulder blade. The bruising force of the bullet knocked the wind out of him, and he found himself in no position to reach the gun a few feet away from him. Damn, he wished bulletproof vests could numb the pain of being shot a bit more.

He _was_ alive, though.

When he heard Malloy cry out in pain, he managed to crane his neck to look back at the ensuing fight behind him. Voller had, thankfully, been disarmed. But right then, he was holding Malloy down and was pushing his thumb into the bullet wound on his shoulder. With an angry cry, Voller landed a brutal punch to the side of his old colleague's head, knocking him out instantly.

Malloy was down and out, and McGee had to fight the pain and act fast.

The machine gun lay about two metres behind him, but he would have to be lighting quick to get there before Voller retrieved his own pistol. So, McGee dived in the direction of the downed handgun, right at the same time its owner did. Their heads actually collided as they both grasped the object which could well have decided this fight. Tim fought through the pain in his head and concentrated on keeping the barrel away from his face.

 _God, this guy's strong._

They struggled like that for a few tense seconds, throwing the occasional punch in each other's direction. McGee had seen enough of Toy's stupid action movies to know about the biting tactic. He was never one to fight dirty, but this guy hardly deserved the courtesy. So, with all the power he could muster, he pulled their conjoined hands toward his face and bit down hard when teeth made contact with Voller's hand.

The German cried out in pain, and his grip loosened on the barrel.

Just when McGee managed to slip the gun loose and point it in Voller's direction, it was punched out of his hand. He managed to catch a brief glimpse of it sliding into the distance before another fist went flying, this time into his face. He rolled over in agony as Voller reached down to his boot and drew a small, but sharp, combat knife from a sheath at his ankle. It was the sound of the blade being wielded that had McGee snapping back down to Earth.

Voller went in for the kill, but the NCIS man remembered some of the knife training he'd received from Ziva over the years. He used his forearms to hold the blade away from his neck, and managed to grip Voller's wrists at the same time. This locked them in a temporary stalemate. That wouldn't be the case for long, though. Voller had the strength and stamina overpower him. The gritted teeth and wild eyes looking down at him made it hard not give up.

He would have to take a risk here. A _huge_ risk.

Just as the knife's tip edged closer and closer to his throat, McGee threw all his weight to the left as he rolled him and his enemy over in a tangle of arms. There was no way of knowing how this would turn out, or who would come out of it on top, but it turned out to be the deciding move in this fight.

The blade pierced flesh. Two pulses became one. One final breath was set free into the stale air of the warehouse.

* * *

Tony generally thought gunfire was bad. He'd always thought that. And, really, when was it ever good? It usually meant some people were being killed, innocent or otherwise. As he arrived at the top floor of the warehouse, he decided that gunfire was good in this case. It meant that his friends hadn't been shot down thirty seconds into the fight. It meant that they were still alive, still shooting, still with him. It was actually a welcome, and constant, noise by the time he slipped through the door and into the shadows.

Unlike the buzzing.

He crept along the wall of whatever room he was in, wincing slightly as he stepped on some broken glass. It was fine, though, because his friends were still fighting their way through the building. There actions provided him with cover, even at this distance. They were doing their jobs, and he had to do his. Gibbs and Ziva needed him. The two most important people he'd ever met. He loved Gibbs like a father, and he loved Ziva like… Well, he just loved her. In a, _I want to have kids and grow old with you,_ type of way.

God, why did he only realise these things in times of crisis? He really needed to push these thoughts to one side. He had to focus. It was hard, though. He felt like he'd just checked into the Cuckoo Cloud Hotel, and was there to stay. Damn drugs. Where exactly was he heading again? Ah, yes. Towards those low voices he could hear coming from the next room.

Wait, was that Ziva?

He slipped into the next room and had never felt more relieved. Well, not for a while, anyway. They weren't facing him, but he could make out the unmistakable silhouettes of his partner and his boss. They were chained in their chairs and murmuring to each other with urgent tones. He felt tears prick the backs of his eyes as he started making their way towards them.

He was halfway across the room when he was hit by a sudden breeze of cool air. Only, this wasn't the stale, damp air of the abandoned warehouse. No, this was much fresher, and he somehow found himself stepping out onto a Parisian balcony. Wow, that was weird. He noticed Ziva sitting back in deck chair as she read a book, and his heart warmed at the sight. She sensed him as he approached, and turned to him with a warm smile.

''Tony?''

Ziva could see him standing there, but her initial relief turned to confusion as he approached her with a relaxed grin. He ran a hand through her hair as he crouched down next to her. ''Quite a view, huh?'' He asked, gazing at the wall in front of them.

She frowned in confusion. ''Tony, we don't have much time. You need to help us get free.''

Tony couldn't work out what she was talking about. Break free? From what? This was a perfectly nice hotel, and a perfectly nice evening. He was hoping to relax with his partner, not do anything that took effort. It was Paris for Christ sake. ''Just relax, Ziva.''

She turned to Gibbs with a worried look, and he narrowed his eyes at his senior field agent. ''DiNozzo, what the hell is wrong with you?''

Oh, no. He'd been caught by the boss man. Was he being overly affectionate with Ziva? Boss man doesn't like that. He quickly jumps back to his feet and finds himself in the bullpen, but that made perfect sense because Gibbs was glaring at him from behind his desk. ''Sorry, boss. I'm on it, boss.'' The floor of the bullpen was covered in hot sand for some reason, but that seemed completely normal to everyone else, so why complain?

''DiNozzo, are you feeling okay?''

He looks back to his boss, who is now standing at the end of a stuffy corridor with the sun shining in from behind him. He's in his desert camouflaged ghillie-suit, and holding his sniper over his shoulder. Oh, so they must have successfully rescued Ziva in the end. Now they could leave Somalia for good. He looked over his shoulder, she wasn't there. Wait, he was dragging her out of her cell a second ago, so where'd she go?

He looked around in confusion, but saw nothing but trees, for some reason. There was some kind of big cat sprinting through the woodland in front of him. A jaguar maybe? He was never great a knowing his wildlife. A voice echoed its way across the wilderness. It was soft, familiar, and warm. That was her, all right, but where was she?

''Tony?'' Ziva asked again, this time a softly as she could. He stilled looked completely lost, though.

''Hallucinations.'' Gibbs said with a sigh.

She turned to him with wide eyes. Of course. How could she not have thought of that? ''Oh, god!'' She said dejectedly. ''Not again. Not now!'' She looked at her partner again, and her heart squeezed with sympathy. She _had_ to find a way through to him, though. ''Tony? Tony, why are you here?''

Gibbs sent her a frown, but she ignored it. ''Tony, _why_ are you here?''

Tony turned around and met her eyes for the first time, and Ziva nearly cried in relief. Maybe he could hear her, after all.

There she was. That was Ziva, but why was she tied to chair? She was asking him why he was there, and then he remembered everything. Saleem had her. That slimy scumbag. He looked around for his snarling enemy, but there was no Caf-Pow drinking terrorist to be seen. Ziva called out to him again, and this time she was asking him to help her. She needed to be freed. That was his mission, after all, so who was he to refuse?

Ziva was trying to remain patient, but her heart was racing at an impossible speed. ''Tony, I need you to use your knife and pick the lock on my chains. Please. Please, hear me.''

Tony heard Gibbs from over his shoulder, but didn't need to turn around. His boss would tell him what to do. He always told him what to do. _''DiNozzo, your partner needs you.''_ She does? Right, of course she does. He just needed to concentrate. He got his knife out from his ankle holster, because Ziva was telling him he needed it. Never go anywhere without a knife. For some reason, though, the knife was bending in his hand. He stared at it in confusion. Was this like that bald kid from the Matrix who could bend spoons with mind? That's kind of cool actually.

''Tony!''

''DiNozzo!''

He was getting distracted. ''Sorry, boss.'' He snapped quickly, before giving himself a firm head slap for good measure. Suddenly the world around him turned into flames, but then immediately cleared to reveal a cold, damp room. It was dark, and struck Tony as an old, abandoned warehouse. Gibbs was chained to a chair on one side of him, and Ziva on the other. Fornell was lying on the floor, and looked like he had taken a beating, but he could still see the FBI man's chest rising and falling.

He looked at Ziva with a frown. ''What am I doing?''

She was in tears, and that had his throat tightening all of a sudden.

''Tony, can you hear me?''

His frown deepened. ''Of course I can.''

''DiNozzo, stop standing there and get us out of here.'' Gibbs ordered.

He looked at the chains around their wrists, and then at the knife in his hand. He half expected it to start bending again, but had to admit it was a relief when it didn't. He walked behind Ziva's chair, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze as he did so, and then crouched down to examine the padlock. It seemed simple enough, and he was fairly certain that just a knife would be sufficient enough to break it open. Ziva seemed to have shaken it slightly loose, anyway.

 _That's my ninja._

''Is McGee with you?'' Gibbs asked after the padlock finally clicked open.

Tony began unwinding the chains. ''Honestly? I'm struggling to remember what the hell's going on.''

Ziva shook the chains off and jumped to her feet. Tony somehow knew exactly what she wanted, just by the look on her face, and passed her his knife without hesitation. She offered him a tiny smile of gratitude as she crouched down behind Gibbs to start working on his bonds.

''DiNozzo I need your phone. We've got to call Vance, now.'' Gibbs said urgently.

Tony waved his hand dismissively. ''I got you covered, boss. I filled him in. Kind of.''

''No!'' Ziva and Gibbs cried in unison.

''I need to call him. It's important.'' Gibbs said, and his tone left no room for argument.

Tony shrugged and pulled out his cell phone, before tossing it over to Ziva, who caught it one handed placed it on Gibbs' lap. Tony was busy being impressed by her reflexes for the millionth time when he heard a small groan from behind him, and nearly gave himself another head slap for almost forgetting about Tobias.

He span around and approached the old timer. He was a mess. It looked like Kaiser really did a number on him. ''Christ, Fornell.''

Another groan. ''DiNozzo?''

''Good guess.''

Fornell made no attempt to move. ''Is he dead?''

''Who?''

 _Oh, crap. Wait a second._

Tony turned back to Gibbs and Ziva. ''Where'd Kaiser go?''

''Ran off to deal with the others.'' Gibbs filled him in with a frown.

Ziva cursed in what Tony recognised as Hebrew. ''This lock will not break.'' She said in frustration.

''The key.'' Fornell said in a barely audible voice. ''Carson.''

Tony frowned. ''Boss?''

''The key's in Agent Carson's hand, DiNozzo.''

Ziva let out another frustrated string of Hebrew. ''Tony, he is the…recently deceased man lying outside the doorway.''

He turned around, and sure enough, there lay a dead FBI agent. He shot a sympathetic look at Fornell, though it didn't look like he could see it, before getting back to his feet and walking over to Carson. When he stepped out of the room, he spotted the key they must have been talking about. It was lying in between the FBI agent and a dead bad guy. God, what a mess this whole day had been. The body count was almost sky high by now.

He bent down to pick the key up, but the sound of footsteps approaching him stopped him in his tracks. Could that have been Ziva? No, it sounded far too heavy. Gibbs maybe? Again, no. Gibbs was almost silent when he moved around. Maybe it was…

He span around just in time to see the psychotic blue eyes and a set of rough knuckles flying towards his face. He felt the force of a train slam into his cheek as he went flying back into the wall behind him. He didn't have time to get up and react before he was grabbed roughly by the scruff of his jacket and thrown through the nearest door. He'd lost his bearings after the first punch, and had no hope in hell of knowing where he was after that. All he was aware of was the fact that he had landed on a flight of stairs and, unless he was already severely concussed, he was pretty sure they were sloping upward.

He scrambled to his feet and reached for his gun, but he wasn't fast enough. Kaiser grabbed his wrist, twisted it and managed to grab the gun out of his hand. He didn't want this to end quickly, apparently, because he just tossed the gun back to the bottom of the stairs and threw another punch into Tony's face. He managed to raise his forearms this time to block it, but was still knocked back by the force. This narrow stairwell was too close-quarters to be fighting someone as powerful as Kaiser, so Tony kicked him back slightly before making a break for it.

He burst out into the open, and was actually relieved to find himself on the rooftop. He had space now. Kaiser was only a few steps behind him, but Tony was ready to make a stand now. He span around put all his strength into punch, and was satisfied to see it connect with Kaiser's face and send him stumbling to the side. Before Tony could jump at him again, though, his enemy span into a martial arts style kick and the NCIS agent had a boot crashing into his torso before he could really see it.

Tony fell back and his head hit the ground. _Hard_. So hard in fact that he was seeing stars, quite literally. He wasn't sure what was happening around him, but he could smell burning. And blood. They were smells that brought back a lot of memories, but they were all jumbled in his brain. It was as if all his worst experiences were trying to push their way to the forefront of his mind, like they were competing to be the worst. He felt paralysed as his mind starting imploding on itself.

There was the sound of a blade, and approaching footsteps. And suddenly a huge, cold shadow loomed over his entire world. The devil had come to visit, and he wanted blood. The dark face above him slowly got lower and lower, closing the distance between them. It was like something out of nightmare. Maybe that's all this was: a nightmare. Because the face resembled a skull, and it had fire in its eye sockets.

Death itself was staring him in the face.

''Your team may have beaten me,'' It said to him in a deep, bone-chilling voice, ''but they will not walk out of here alive.''

A knife came into view, but its blade was formed of nothing but ice. It should have melted under the fiery gaze of the demon who wielded it, but it never did. He was the dealer of death, and his icy weapon would always do his bidding. This was how it would end. The nightmare. Tony just had to let it happen so he could return to reality.

''As long as I am here,'' The distorted voice rattled through Tony's very soul. ''You're people will not be safe. Everyone you love, everyone you cherish. They will all burn in the world I have created.''

Just before the ice blade was within inches of Tony's face, something seemed to catch his would-be murderer's attention. The head turned back, and before any further words were spoken, the demon disappeared from sight and Tony could feel a cold hand, and an even colder blade, against his throat. Only, he found himself sat up this time. And in the shadow of his nightmare, there stood a white figure. It stared down at his captor, and suddenly this wasn't about Tony anymore.

This was angels against demons.

Ziva had the gun drawn, but didn't dare to fire a shot while Tony was in the way. Kaiser had a knife to her partner's throat, and was using him a human bullet shield. She took a step closer, but she wouldn't dare test her foe. She knew he wouldn't hesitate to kill Tony if she tested him. In fact, she wasn't sure what was stopping him from doing it now. Asking him would be a very bad idea, though, so she just waits patiently for a clean shot.

''There is nothing you can do, David.'' Kaiser taunted with gritted teeth. ''You shoot, he dies. You don't shoot… he still dies.''

She looked into Tony's eyes, and found him staring back at her with awe. He was showing no sign of fighting, and was yet to say a single word. Clearly, he wasn't with them. She couldn't help but feel like that might be positive thing, in this instance. She could guarantee he would be telling her to take the shot if he was in his normal mind set. And, right now, any move that results in his death is out of the question.

She had to do _something_ , though.

Luckily, her ever reliable partner had briefly come to his senses. She saw him look up the heavens, before frowning and looking back to her. She could see it in his eyes. He had returned back to Earth. Before she could send him any silent signals, though, he'd made his move. In a flash, he slammed the back of his head into Kaiser's face. The maniac cried out in pain, and his knife was brought far enough away from Tony's throat to be safe. In the confusion, Kaiser's left shoulder was briefly exposed to Ziva.

 _Perfect._ Two shots. Two hits.

He fell back and cried out in pain, but still managed to bring the knife down and impale Tony's arm. When she heard her best friend scream out in agony, blind rage filled her, and she ran over to the two men and kicked out at Kaiser's scarred face. His head jolted back, and he started crawling towards the edge of roof. Ziva had a death grip on the gun in her hand, and was just about to raise it and put a bullet in the back of his head, when he inexplicably started laughing.

It was a real, hysterical cackle, and he turned to her with a twisted smile. Blood was leaking from the corner of his mouth. ''Do it.'' He shouted. ''Kill me.'' Before she could even contemplate what the hell was wrong with him, he got to his knees left his head within inches of the barrel of her gun. ''Once a killer, always a killer. It is in your blood.''

She knew they shouldn't have, but his words made her hesitate.

''Add me to pile of bodies you have collected for yourself.''

She swallowed. Why couldn't she just pull the trigger?

He spat blood onto the floor at her feet. ''The world is always at war.'' He bellowed at her. ''The world does not make sense unless we fight each other. That is the way it has always been. You cannot stop what I have started.'' He let out another bark of laughter. ''So kill me. See where it gets you.''

Again, she found herself hesitating. Not because she didn't want to kill him, because she really, _really_ did. No, it was because he was right. The world was always at war, in one way or another. And killing one enemy only leads to another one emerging from the shadows. So, as much as she wanted to wipe this monster off the face of the planet, she decided to approach this another way. She was no longer an assassin. She was a federal agent. This man had to answer for what he'd done, and he would, but there was still a bigger picture here.

He knew the ins and outs of the terrorist world. The authorities would definitely want a crack at getting some valuable information out of him before, hopefully, sticking him away in the deepest, darkest hole somewhere. No. Death was too easy, and he knew it. That was why he was yelling at her to kill him. He didn't _want_ to be taken alive because, as he said to Gibbs, there are fates far worse than death.

And she would be happy for him to experience them.

Before she could go about placing him under arrest, she heard someone approach her. When she glanced behind her, she was relieved to see that it was McGee. He was limping slightly, and wincing in pain as he moved. She turned her attention back to Kaiser, knowing full well that he needed to be watched vigilantly. He'd- proved multiple times, in fact- that he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

The demonic blue eyes of their enemy turned to McGee as he got closer to them. ''Oh, I see.'' He said with a smile, before turning back to Ziva. ''Your body count has become infinite.'' He bit out. ''So now you have turned your attention to corrupting the souls of your friends.''

He shook his head as McGee reached Ziva's side. ''The only thing worse than being a murderer is getting others to do it for you.'' He looked up at Tim with a raised eyebrow. ''I am surprised you're not all lining up to take the-''

He was cut off abruptly by the fist of McGee. Ziva's eyes widened at the force of punch. Who would have though their Timmy had it in him? He didn't stop there, though. He got down to his knees and continued to punch Kaiser over and over, each one harder than the other. Ziva had to admit, she enjoyed watching this. A lot more than she would have enjoyed seeing him have a quick death, in fact. After a short while, Kaiser's grunts of pain became quieter and quieter. Until, eventually, his head fell back as he slipped into unconsciousness. McGee reached into his pocket and retrieved a set of handcuffs.

''You have the right to remain silent, you son of a bitch.'' And with that, he rolled Kaiser over and clapped the cuffs over his wrists, before looking up to the sky with his eyes closed in exhaustion.

Ziva stood there with her mouth agape as she tried to work out if what she saw really happened. ''Are you all right, McGee?''

He collapsed onto the ground and lay down with a few heavy breaths. ''I am now.''

She scoffed. ''I am going to need a full briefing on how you and Tony managed to pull this off.''

''You got it,'' he wheezed, ''just…not right now.''

She ran a hand through her hair and let out a relieved sigh, but something in the corner of her eye had her adrenaline spiking again. ''Tony!''

She ran over to her partner, who was still lying on his back with a knife in his bicep. She got to her knees and leaned over him, and was relieved to see his eyes open. Other than a few bruises on his face- and the stab wound, of course- he seemed otherwise unharmed. She tore a piece of her jacket off, before quickly removing the knife from his arm and tying the rag tightly around his wound. She winced at the grunt of pain he let out as she did so.

''Ziva?''

She reached over and ran a hand over his head, not even trying to fight the wave of affection she felt spreading through her chest.

''You okay?''

''Yes.'' She smiled down at him. ''You came for me again.''

He met her eyes, and despite the confusion and pain she could see in them, there was a warmth there that had her heart skipping a beat. ''I had to.'' He told her.

She nodded. ''I know.''

''Did we get him?''

It hadn't really hit her until then, but she found herself tearing up in relief. ''It is over.'' She told him thickly.

He sighed in relief. ''Thank god.''

She leaned down and kissed his forehead gently. ''We have all made it.''

He frowned in concern. ''McGee?''

''He is fine. I think he is still in John McClane mode.''

His smile made his stomach flutter. ''I love it when you make movie references.''

''Well, I have been by your side for the best part of a decade,'' she told him softly, ''it was inevitable.''

She swallowed back her nerves when she repeated that word. It was a word that played a small part in their long history. She wasn't sure if he would remember the significance of what she said, or if he read the underlying message she sent him, but the intensity of his gaze told her he probably did.

''Yeah,'' he whispered, ''it was, wasn't it.''

She smiled down at him again, before placing a soft kiss to his lips. He groaned in indulgence (or maybe pain?) before she pulled back. ''Now I know we're all safe, can I pass out?'' He asked as his eyes closed.

She forced a chuckle to try and cover her overwhelming concern. ''Wait until the ambulance gets here.''

''They're on their way?''

She nodded. ''I can hear the sirens. It sounds like a few helicopters are on their way, as well.''

He frowned, tilting his head slightly to listen to his surroundings. He seemed to give up after a few seconds. ''Damn ninja hearing.''

She let another small chuckle. ''You probably cannot hear them over the ringing in your ears.''

He conceded her point with an agreeable frown. ''Probably.''

She beamed down at him again, before giving his cheek another kiss and resting her head on his chest. ''It is over.'' She repeated softly.

She felt him hum against the side of her cheek, but he didn't say anything else. They were both happy to just lie there together, waiting peacefully for help to arrive. They had survived. They had won. She didn't want to think about anything other than the heartbeat of the man she loved as it beat under her ear. Hell had broken loose, but it had now been re-contained. They lay with each other, in their own little world, and nothing was going to separate her from him for the rest of the day.

She was vaguely aware of Gibbs walking past them with a brief glance at Tony. He wasn't scolding them for their display of affection. No, he was merely checking that his senior field agent was relatively unharmed. She thought she may have caught the slight twitching of his mouth as he turned his attention to McGee. A relieved smile, maybe? She knew she was finding it hard not to let hers shine through.

They had won. It was over.

* * *

 **Okay. So...that was was very action movie-ish. This isn't the end btw. I will wrap this up in a far more peaceful and T/Z loving way. I'll also address how Kaiser's crazy plan was dealt with, and what happens to him next. Thank you so much for sticking with this nonsense. I hope you enjoyed it**


	13. Chapter 13

**This was orignally going to be a much longer chapter, and the penultimate one, but I've ended up splitting it. So this is the 13 out of 15. Just wanted you guys to see that I was still alive, and still writing. I've just been a little less motivated lately. Hope you like this one. Nearly there now.**

* * *

Gibbs couldn't help but feel a little bit sceptical of the whole situation. The usual sense of victory, or even just plain relief, was yet to fill the air. Usually when they had their number one target in cuffs it meant they had done their job. It meant it was one less criminal off the streets. One less threat on the loose. They would just have to fill the necessary paperwork, shake off any bumps and bruises picked up along the way, and then go home and rest. Ordinarily, the team leader would feel a great deal of satisfaction at another case being wrapped up.

But this was no ordinary case, and this was no ordinary man sat in front of him.

Kaiser, whose true identity was yet to be revealed, was just slouched back in his chair and looking as if he was simply waiting in a café for an old friend, as opposed to being taken into custody and awaiting trial. The bruises on his face formed a rather unflattering combination with his much older scar, and his eyes showed no sign of emotion. Every now and then he would let out a very small, barely audible sigh through his nose, but otherwise remained silent. From the other side of the glass, Gibbs found himself conflicted. On the one hand, he was all but itching to storm into interrogation and unleash all his rage on Kaiser. He knew he was on the verge of eruption, and that this man deserved hell for what he'd done. He could enter the room and show his foe a much darker way of interrogating. A fiery avalanche of fury that could bury Kaiser once and for all. It would, truthfully, have been the easier option.

On the other hand, though, the seasoned NCIS special agent felt something else amongst all the anger. Curiosity. He simultaneously found Kaiser infuriating and fascinating. He knew that, below all the obvious psychological issues, this man's character was influenced by far more than just insanity. He had a dark history- that much was clear- but he also had moments of relative normality. In these moments Gibbs couldn't help but get the impression that Kaiser wasn't always a maniacal anarchist destined to make a living out of causing chaos. Hell, he must have been born with a name, at least.

His dancing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his cell phone going off. He flipped it open after reading Vance's name on the display. ''Yeah, Gibbs.''

'' _Building's clear_ ,'' his boss informed him with a relieved sigh. '' _Turns out he had half the damn building rigged to blow_.''

''Inside help?'' Gibbs asked.

'' _You guessed it_.''

He nodded to himself, expecting such. ''Question everybody. Who knows how many guys he paid off.''

'' _FBI have got that covered.''_

Gibbs grunted. ''Guessing we're not in everybody's good books right now.''

'' _Nope. Getting some dirty looks from underneath just about every federal agency cap you can name,''_ Vance confirmed, his temper audibly starting to shine through. '' _Whole thing's a mess._ ''

Gibbs let out a heavy sigh, which carried the weight of what he suspected was shame at his handling of the situation. He had his team to thank for getting him out of this one. ''He wanted it to be a mess.''

'' _It's a mess that's coming to an end, thankfully,''_ Vance said calmly. '' _You're agents were successful but don't think for a second that there won't be consequences for what they did,''_ He warned. '' _They more or less went rogue, and had Lady Luck to thank for pulling this off.''_

Despite the warning, and the very real anger he could hear in his director's voice, Gibbs couldn't help but smile to himself slightly. Honestly? He was always pissed off when his agents recklessly threw themselves into harm's way. But, in this particular instance, he knew exactly why they'd done it. He was a little angry, sure, but mostly just proud. He was more than willing to shield them from whatever political bullets were fired their way over the next few weeks, so he wasn't all that worried for them, anyway.

''They had some luck, sure,'' He conceded. ''And a highly trained MI6 agent.''

'' _I wouldn't mind a word with him, too.''_

Gibbs smiled again. ''They're all in the hospital, Leon,'' He shot back lightly. ''Feel free to visit any time.''

He heard a small grunt over the phone. '' _Maybe later. Got a lot of people to talk to first. Go and let our prisoner know that he's going to hell, one way or another.''_

''On it.''

And with that, he hung up. Over the course of the conversation with his director, he had decided against the whole _Interrogation from Hell_ thing, and instead let his curiosity win the mental boxing match. Kaiser seemed to enjoy other people's anger, and would probably just sit back and smile at any physical or verbal threats. Gibbs knew he would just end up pissing himself off even more if that was the case. Maybe a calm conversation would be the best route to take here.

He left Observation and used the few steps between there and his foe to put his poker face firmly in place. There was no way he was going to let himself look rattled- or even angered- by recent events. No way was Kaiser going to get the satisfaction. No matter what happened here, he was going to be the bigger man. By the time he swung the door open and took his seat opposite the terrorist, he knew he had his emotions in check.

That didn't stop the sound of Kaiser's voice making his bones chill, though.

''I do not know what you expect to happen here, Gibbs,'' he expressed casually.

''What do _you_ expect to happen?''

The scarred mad man considered that for a few seconds with a tilt of his head. ''Honestly? I expect to be interrogated, put on trial and maybe even tortured,'' he replied, again showing no signs that this fate stirred up any fear within him whatsoever. ''You will hope that I break down and tell you everything I know about the world of terrorism. Perhaps you will even hope that I start begging for a deal of some description.''

Gibbs scoffed slightly as he leaned back in his chair, relaxed. ''Someone's going to try and get you to talk. But that's not my job.''

Kaiser raised a single eyebrow in question. ''No?''

Gibbs shook his head. ''Do I want to help keep the world safe from men like you? Sure. But I'll leave the whole 'bigger picture' thing to the CIAs and MI6s of this world.'' He shrugged casually. ''I'm sure they can think of worse punishments for you than I ever could. Hell, maybe even Mossad will get involved. You did kill one of their officer's, after all.''

Gibbs knew this particular scare tactic had a very slim chance of working, but decided to give his opponent the unnerving stare he'd used so often over the years. As he expected, though, Kaiser showed no sign of crumbling. In fact, he didn't really show any sign of emotion whatsoever. He really was a fascinating specimen. Not for the first time that day, Gibbs found himself praying that Abby found a match when she ran this guy's fingerprints. As they sat here, her machines were running it through just about every database possible.

''Officer Ben-Gidon,'' Kaiser acknowledged with a sigh. ''Far too easy to manipulate.''

Gibbs felt a flash of anger. ''You threatened to kill his family,'' he reminded him sharply. ''You might think you're clever, but that's just playing dirty.'' He kept his eyes fixed on Kaiser's empty blue ones, but the man opposite him was simply staring into space. ''If you have any humanity whatsoever, you'll tell Mossad where he's buried. At least let his family give him a proper burial.''

Kaiser's brow furrowed slightly. ''I killed Malachi Ben-Gidon myself,'' He revealed with infuriating calmness. ''Murdered him, quite brutally, in fact. I drove a shattered pint glass down his throat.''

Gibbs found his fury increasing in intensity with every word this psycho let out of his twisted mouth.

''His cocky spy face was a lot less pretty when my boot was done with it,'' he continued coldly. ''I am not sure any of his precious loved ones would have wanted to see it.'' He tilted his head in consideration. ''All the more reason for them to stick him in the ground, I suppose.''

Boiling point.

It was Kaiser's smile that finally did it. Composure be damned. Gibbs' fist hit the table with such force that it surprised even him. Kaiser didn't even flinch, and instead started laughing triumphantly when he finally turned his gaze back to his host. Through all the fire in his veins, Gibbs couldn't shake off the sudden feeling of defeat. Clearly his reaction was exactly what his enemy had wanted to elicit. He'd let himself be riled up.

''I do not know where your Mossad friend is buried,'' Kaiser said after his laughter died down. ''Disposal is not the sort of dirty work I oversee myself.'' His horrifying smile never left his freshly bruised and cut face. ''Besides, my people find shovels and pick axes a bit…primitive. They may not have actually left anything for his wife to put in a coffin.''

Gibbs felt his other palm smash against the table top as he abruptly got to his feet. ''He has a two year old daughter!'' He bellowed, finally giving up on trying to stay calm. ''His son is five! His wife is pregnant with their third. Now she has no support. No income for her family!'' He always struggled to bottle up his emotions when young children were involved. ''I hope to God Mossad get their hands on you when this is done.''

Kaiser rolled his eyes. ''No children were harmed, Leroy.''

''Only because you got what you wanted.''

He made a face as if that was obvious. ''Yes,'' he replied simply. ''That was the whole point of threatening them in the first place.'' He scoffed before shooting a frown in Gibbs' direction. ''I thought you had decades of experience under your belt?''

''I do,'' Gibbs bit back. ''And I don't think I've ever wanted to kill someone as much as you.''

Another cold, chilling smile. ''And yet here I sit. Alive, if not well,'' He said calmly, gesturing to his bullet wound. ''It turns out the woman on your team who was raised to be a killer has discovered a more merciful side since arriving at your shores.'' He clicked his tongue a few times. ''But, still, once a killer, always a killer.''

''She's not just killer,'' Gibbs defended instinctively. ''Never has been.''

Kaiser made a face suggesting he almost conceded that point. ''Not like her fearless leader.''

Gibbs narrowed his eyes.

''Me and you, Gibbs, we're-''

''Don't you dare tell me we're not that different.'' Gibbs interrupted bitterly.

Kaiser scoffed. ''No, we are very different. At least, we are at this moment in time.''

Gibbs wasn't sure where this was going, and was just as unsure as to whether he wanted to know. But maybe Kaiser was about to reveal something about his past. Maybe it would just be a hint, but it would be more than nothing. Curiosity really was a bitch.

''There was a time when I was a man of honour. Like you, Leroy Jethro Gibbs,'' Kaiser elaborated calmly. ''A time when I was driven by duty, by loyalty.'' His cold eyes went distant as he stared into space again. ''For years I thought that I was a good person. For years I thought that I had found my purpose.''

As vague as this all was, Gibbs had a good idea of where he was coming from. In fact, he had always suspected this was the kind of background Kaiser had come from. ''You were a soldier.''

Kaiser made a strange face. ''Of sorts.''

''That's one thing we used to have in common,'' Gibbs agreed. ''Doesn't make us alike.''

Kaiser frowned in consideration. ''You had everything taken away from you.''

For a few seconds, Gibbs was somewhat taken aback. He wasn't expecting that particularly agonising chapter of his life to be brought up in this conversation. Kaiser didn't need to explain any further. He was clearly referring to the loss of Shannon and Kelly. And, yes, they were absolutely everything to him and, yes, they were taken away from him. That wasn't what had got Gibbs' gut churning, though. If they were talking about the similarities between their pasts, then maybe this was the reason Gibbs was looking for before he came in the room. Maybe this was the reason for a soldier to lose his sense of duty, and his sanity with it.

''What was taken away from you, Kaiser?''

Previously empty eyes turned back to him, and for the first time a small spark could be seem in them. It was impossible to tell what it meant because it was gone in a split second, but it definitely meant something. It meant he _could_ feel. ''Our respective losses sent us down different paths, Gibbs,'' Kaiser said eventually, with an almost soft tone. ''You still see yourself as a good man. You still see your kills as just.'' He locked eyes with the ex-marine once again. ''Whereas I know that every death caused by my hands has been unfair. Whether I'm killing for a nation or killing because…I simply enjoy it.'' He punctuated his statement with a small scoff. ''That is why we are different. You have yet to realise that life is designed to inflict pain on you. That your world only starts to make sense when it goes up in flames. That is why I must keep mine burning.''

Suddenly, Gibbs stopped seeing this crazy anarchist as a monster, and started seeing him as a lost human being. As a man who had let his mind be twisted and tormented by loss to the point where he had become an empty shell. A beast unleashed from within his tortured soul. That's why he spent the most recent chapter of his life causing chaos, and trying to start wars. He had no idea what to do with himself if he stood still for a second. The faces and voices of who he'd lost haunted him if he stopped moving. Gibbs knew all this now, perhaps better than anyone else could.

He'd been there himself.

Only Kaiser was right. Their pain had sent them down two completely different paths. ''Who are you?'' He asked, _really_ asked for the first time. ''When you were a 'good man'. Who were you to your friends and family? You must have at least had a name.''

The length of time that Kaiser spent considering his answer filled Gibbs with both hope and dread. He was either trying to decide whether the truth was worth it, or how to deflect the question away from himself. For a second, Gibbs allowed himself to start regretting this whole conversation. Because now he would never look at his foe in the same light. His team would still see the monster. They would still see the psycho who played with all their heads just to keep himself entertained, whereas he knew differently. Sure, he still hated this man's guts. And, yes, he could still see the murderous coldness at the surface of his eyes. But now he found himself looking at a person with a tragic past. He was looking at a human.

And he hated the tiny part of him that felt pity.

''I was never a good man,'' Kaiser replied eventually. ''I just thought I was.'' He shrugged. ''A lot of people make the same mistake.''

Gibbs narrowed his eyes again. ''I don't believe you.''

Kaiser released that same, chilling laughter from before. ''You will not find any matches.''

It took Gibbs a few seconds to catch on. ''We've got a hell of lot of databases to get through.''

''None of which will have a match.''

''You sure about that?'' Gibbs asked, allowing himself a small smile of intimidation. ''What makes you think we haven't got a match already?''

Kaiser rolled his eyes. ''Because it is not physically possible.''

''People don't just disappear.''

''No,'' He agreed with a shrug. ''But perhaps I am not a person. Whoever I used to be is dead. He died along with…'' He trailed off before he let any further information slip. ''Along with everything he used to fight for.''

They held gazes for a few tense moments, before the NCIS agent decided he'd done enough digging for today. Maybe Kaiser's true identity would be revealed eventually, but something told Gibbs that he was telling the truth about his DNA and fingerprints being another dead end. And even if any intelligence agencies knew anything about his past, there was no way they'd shared it with a plucky little federal agency. No, for now, he would have to be satisfied with what he'd just learned.

''You know what?'' Gibbs asked as he got back to his feet. ''It doesn't matter who you used to be, or what happened to you. All that matters is who you are now.'' He leaned over the table to aim a stern glare at his captive. ''You're an animal that needs to be caged.''

Kaiser laughed dismissively. ''Animals like me are more likely to get put down.''

Gibbs shook his head. ''Too damn easy. You're going to rot in a hole somewhere until your insanity eats you from the inside.'' He turned and headed for the door. ''I'm sure MI6 will put a lot of thought into where they're going to send you, _Kaiser_ ,'' He bit out. ''But wherever it is, it's gonna be hell for someone like you.''

He had just opened the door, and was about to step out of the room, when he heard Kaiser's ever confident voice from behind him.

''Do me a favour, would you?''

Gibbs turned to him with a furrowed brow.

''Say hi to your team for me,'' he said with an arrogant smile. ''I will miss them while I'm away.''

Gibbs stared blankly at him for a few seconds, and decided that whatever was left of this man was just a pathetic mess, really. ''No one's going to miss you.''

And with that, he closed the door on the latest mad man to disrupt his life. He gave the three armed guards in the hallway a small nod as he brushed past them and down the corridor. He couldn't help but feel satisfied by how that went. Before he conducted that 'interview', he was actually a little bit pissed off that Kaiser had simply been arrested, (although he _was_ severely beaten by McGee), and not just simply shot in the head and wiped off the face of the planet. But now he realised that a chaotic and sudden death was exactly what Kaiser would have been hoping for. It would have been easy. It would have been merciful, even.

Gibbs didn't want that.

No. The idea of this rabid animal being locked away in the deepest and darkest of holes and never seeing the light of day again was far more satisfactory. He would be alone with his madness. Alone with the haunted memories and faces of his past. Alone with his melting mind. He was an anarchist who couldn't let his world find peace and calm, and now he'd know nothing but darkness and silence. This was a punishment as severe as any other.

Kaiser was done with, and now Gibbs had a team to look after and a house to rebuild.

* * *

 _Gunfire. Lots of and lots of gunfire. And explosions. Being kicked and punched and stabbed. Ziva's frightened face._

Tony's memory was a bit of a blur but those were the key aspects he could remember. Well, those and the fact that his team brought down the bad guy got out alive. He supposed that it had to count as a success then, of sorts. He went into battle with an objective and had somehow managed to complete it. He wasn't feeling big headed about it, though, because he was well aware of the fact he couldn't have done it without help from his loyal probie (who _really_ wasn't a probie anymore) and a certain MI6 agent. Still. Everything seemed to turn out okay. He allowed his conscience to feel a little bit proud of himself.

His eyes opened, but he almost rolled them to himself at what he saw. He was in the hospital. _Again._ God, he was sick of this place. He looked around to test out the clarity of his sight and thoughts. Thankfully, he felt very much _not_ drugged up for the first time in a while, and let out a sigh of relief at the realisation. He half expected- and fully hoped- to see the beautiful face of his Israeli partner looking at him from his bedside. He was already preparing for that stomach fluttering feeling he always got when she greeted him with a warm smile, or a look of open affection. It never happened, though. In fact, she was nowhere to be seen. He decided against sulking about this, and instead looked to his left, where another man lay in an identical bed. He had his leg in a bandage and his arm in a sling, but looked as though these wounds were nothing but a very minor inconvenience as he sipped from a polyester cup.

''Good to see you awake, DiNozzo,'' Malloy said calmly, not once looking up from the newspaper he had in his lap. ''Your snoring was starting to become a tad irritating.''

Tony couldn't help but smile to himself. ''I know someone who's worse.''

''Well I hope I don't ever have to share a room with them.''

He chuckled at the Brit's deadpan expression. ''How are you feeling, Double-0-Malloy?''

Malloy shrugged his good shoulder. ''A bit achy, but I've have much worse.''

''I bet you have.''

''Your friend McGee came out of it far better than me. He certainly knows how to handle himself,'' Malloy said with a smile. ''I have to admit I was impressed.''

Tony wasn't sure exactly what McGee had done during all the chaos, but still felt the pride for his long-time friend shining through his chest. ''He learned from the best,'' Tony replied with a smirk full of self-awareness.

Malloy looked up with a raised eyebrow. ''I assume you mean Gibbs.''

''Ouch.''

The spy chuckled lightly before his expression turned more serious. ''You NCIS lot are good people, you know.''

Tony certainly thought so, but was still deeply moved by the words. He wouldn't let that show, of course. ''I thought you said we were all crazy?''

''You are,'' Malloy replied smoothly. ''But not necessarily in a bad way.''

''Thanks, I guess.''

He got a cheeky wink in response. ''How's your arm?''

For a few seconds, Tony just frowned in question. It was only after he looked down at his left arm that he realised it was in a sling. Suddenly he remembered why he could recollect the feel of a sharp blade so clearly. Kaiser was clearly determined to leave his mark physically as well as mentally. The pain he could feel in his bicep was more of a dull ache than a sharp sting, though, so he must have been on some decent pain killers.

He grunted in surprise. ''That's going to be annoying.''

''You having trouble remembering what happened?'' Malloy asked in a softer tone.

Tony felt his brow pinch in frustration. ''Yeah, a little bit.''

Now it was Malloy's turn to look surprised, but he simply shrugged again before his expression turned thoughtful. ''Well, in short, we won,'' He informed Tony simply. ''Kaiser is in custody and my people are going to find somewhere horrible for him to rot for eternity.'' The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. ''All in all, I think the outcome was worth losing my Jaguar for.''

Tony winced. ''That was a nice car,'' He agreed solemnly. ''May God have mercy on its V8 engine.''

Malloy laughed again. ''V12, actually.''

''Oh, I am so sorry for your loss.''

He shrugged it off. ''It was government funded, anyway. My actual car is still in one piece on my driveway in Kew.'' The icy-cool Englishmen informed Tony casually. ''Unless it got keyed again.''

Tony smiled at thought of an MI6 badass finding out his own personal vehicle had been vandalised, but found the picture of him living a quiet, suburban life on the outskirts of London equally hard to believe. ''Are you sure you should be revealing any information about yourself to a chump like me?'' Tony asked lightly. ''I thought rule one of the spy game was to trust no one?''

''I trust you a lot more than my actual employers, DiNozzo,'' Malloy replied with sincerity. ''You act out of selflessness.''

''It's our jobs,'' Tony explained automatically.

''Yes,'' Malloy agreed with a nod. ''But even when it isn't your job, you are all willing to go the extra mile. If not for an innocent stranger, then at least for your friends.'' His gaze moved to the doorway where something seemed to catch his eye through the window. ''I have to admire how close you are to your co-workers.''

Tony felt a huge wave of emotion that threatened to leave him speechless. ''They're more than co-workers.''

Malloy grunted, but a smile spread across his face again as he looked back from the doorway. ''I noticed.''

Before Tony could question what exactly his MI6 roommate was getting at, the door opened and all his curiosity disappeared. He wasn't sure what he felt when he met the eyes of their visitor, but it wasn't exactly an unfamiliar feeling, either. There she stood. His unharmed partner. She looked refreshed and cleansed and… well, stunning, really. He always thought she looked gorgeous, but for some reason she completely stole his breath this time. He watched her features noticeably soften as her gaze met his face.

''You are awake.''

Tony nodded, eyes locked to hers. ''Sorry, I felt like sleeping in today.''

Her head bowed as she let out a heavy breath, but he still caught the smile pulling at her mouth. ''I thought you might like a lift home,'' she offered quietly. ''I know you are sick of this place.''

He tilted his head in Malloy's direction. ''Well, the company's not so bad this time.'' He still offered her a smile in gratitude, though. ''But, yeah, that would be nice. Thank you.''

She nodded, suddenly looking shy as she avoided his eyes. After a few seconds, she turned to Malloy with a grateful expression. ''Thank you for watching over him for me, Peter,'' she said. ''He has a tendency to get himself into trouble when I am not looking.''

Tony knew she was only joking, but he couldn't help but frown at the knowing look she gave the British spy as she spoke.

''Don't mention it,'' Malloy replied with a charming smile. ''He actually behaved very well for me.''

''Really? What is your secret?'' She asked teasingly.

Before Malloy could offer up another charming reply, Tony jumped into to their little conversation. ''We pretend to be James Bond together.''

She frowned down at him, a teasing glint in her eye. ''I did not know you were into role-playing Tony,'' she teased. ''I do not remember the Bond film where 007 goes through a…'' she gestures between the two men in front of her, ''… _experimental_ phase.''

Tony chuckled at her predictable response. ''Well, the position of the Bond girl still hasn't been filled, so if you're interested…?''

She rolled her eyes. ''I am not easy enough to be a Bond girl.''

Well, that was an understatement. ''No, you're not,'' he agreed softly.

The held each other's gaze again, only this time there the air between became far more intense. Tony felt like the room had become ten times hotter. Well, he supposed Ziva tended to have that effect on most rooms. What were they talking about again? Before he could try and remember the answer to that question, another person entered the room from behind his beloved partner. Originally, he was annoyed by the intrusion. But then he realised it was McGee, and instead let himself smile in greeting.

''McGoo!''

The younger agent offered a small nod. ''Welcome back, Tony.''

Tony's brow furrowed. ''What happened to your face?''

McGee frowned for a second, before realisation dawned over his face. ''Oh, this,'' he gestured to his bruised jaw briefly. ''It's nothing, really.'' He shrugged it off casually. ''Just got into a fight with an MI6 agent.''

Both Tony and Ziva's eyes moved to Malloy, who looked up from his paper with a raised eyebrows. '' _Ex_ MI6 agent,'' He corrected sternly, clearly referring to the recently deceased Voller. ''And it most certainly wasn't me,'' he added with a smirk. ''I know better than to pick a fight with Tim, here. You two should have seen him in action.''

Ziva turned back to McGee with a proud smile. ''I caught a brief glimpse of it when he beat Kaiser into unconsciousness.''

The computer tech started to blush at the praise he was suddenly receiving. ''Well, I've seen enough of you guys over the years. I was bound to pick up one or two things.''

''Nice going, McRambo,'' Tony praised as he sat up in his bed. ''I always knew you had a violent side to you.'' He swung his legs out and got ready to stand up. ''Clearly you've been inspired by your brave, handsome senior field agent.''

McGee sighed. ''I was actually talking about Ziva and Gibbs.''

Tony stood up, which took a lot more effort than he was expecting. ''Hey! That's not fair,'' he said, defending himself indignantly. He couldn't get any more words out, though, before he felt a dizzying rush of blood to his head. He felt himself stumbling forwards, and would probably have face planted there and then if it weren't for his partner. She caught him with a low ' _oof'_ and helped him regain his balance.

''Easy, Tony,'' she admonished gently. ''The doctors said you may feel dizzy when you first try to walk.''

He groaned and raised his hand to rub his forehead. ''Could've warned me.''

''I was not expecting you to jump out of bed so quickly.''

He regained his focus and looked down at her exasperated face with a grin. ''If you take me home right now I won't hesitate to jump back into bed, if that's what you want.''

She smirked up at him and gave his torso a light slap. ''I was going to cook you dinner first, but if you would rather sleep then-''

''Dinner sounds good,'' he shot in quickly. ''Can we just get the hell out of the hospital, please?''

She chuckled and reached up to pat his cheek gently. ''Yes, I think we have spent enough time here. Let's go and get someone to sign you out. A _real_ doctor this time.''

Tony grinned. ''That sucks the fun right out of it.''

''I will make it up to you,'' she replied, perhaps a little huskily, given present company.

''Deal,'' Tony nodded. ''See you around Malloy,'' he turned back and saluted the Brit.

Malloy returned the gesture. ''Take care of yourself, DiNozzo.''

The senior field agent gestured towards Ziva with his head. ''That's what she's for. Well, that and cooking dinner. But I guess that comes under the same category.''

Ziva looked up at him with a half-offended glare. ''What category does a slap to the head come under?''

Tony considered that for a second. ''Assaulting a federal officer,'' he recited lightly. ''Pretty serious crime actually.''

''Tony,'' McGee jumped in with a tired famililiarity. ''Just get out of here before she changes her mind about making dinner for you.''

''Thank you, McGee,'' Ziva said pointedly, raising an eyebrow at Tony.

''I love you too, Timmy,'' DiNozzo shot back in mock-offense.

McGee held the door open as his friends slowly made their way out of the room, and gave Tony a pat on the shoulder as he walked past, with Ziva- his ever faithful partner- holding him up and keeping him balanced. It was funny, really. Tim always knew that Ziva had always helped to keep Tony upright in a metaphorical sense over all their years together. She always seemed to know how to ground him, or to calm him down with a comforting touch. He knew that the man that he had once seen as a juvenile, arrogant playboy had come to depend almost fully on the exotic Israeli who had gracefully walked into their lives all those years ago. Emotionally, she buoyed Tony. And yet here she was _literally_ keeping him on his feet as they shared quiet words and intimate looks all the way down the hospital corridor.

If they hadn't already worked it out, they would do soon. How deeply in love did they have to be before they did something about it?

''You really held your own out there, McGee,'' Malloy praised from the bed behind McGee.

He turned around and regarded his new friend. ''You think so?''

''Oh, yes.''

He scoffed. ''You weren't so bad yourself. Where'd you learn to fight like that?''

''SAS,'' Malloy replied simply. ''And then MI6 didn't exactly hold back on the advanced training after they recruited me.''

''It was pretty badass,'' McGee admitted honestly. ''I'm sure Tony will be comparing you to James Bond for weeks.''

Malloy shrugged casually. ''Well, I would most certainly be dead if it wasn't for you, so I refuse to take the credit for this. You Yanks deserve all the rewards for bringing this bastard down.''

McGee narrowed his eyes. ''I'm guessing that your boss wants to keep MI6's involvement on the down low, then?''

The spy chuckled at his intuition. ''Perhaps,'' he conceded. ''You know, you would make a hell of an agent, McGee.''

''I'm already an agent.''

He tilted his head. ''You know what I meant.''

''Yeah,'' he looked back down the corridor as his companions disappeared around the corner. He felt his loyalty and pride overcome all else, and turned back to the Brit with serious expression. ''But I'm already where I'm supposed to be. I'm not a spy, or a killer. I'm an NCIS special agent. And I'm part of the best team anyone could ever wish for.'' He smiled to himself as his affection for all his friends shone through. ''No other job appeals to me.''

Malloy nodded with an understaninding expression. ''Good for you, mate. Not many people are lucky enough to love their job _and_ love their colleagues.''

McGee's smile returned. ''Yeah. I'm lucky all right.''

* * *

 **Bit short, I know, but it's something. Two more to go now so I ask you lovely lot to keep being patient with my sporadic publishing. The next chapter will be _all_ Tony and Ziva (having dinner etc). I pinky swear. This fic ended up involving other characters a lot more than I orignally planned. P.S. That's the end of Kaiser. No more silly twists and turns. He is out of the picture. The only reason I kept him alive is to keep my options open regarding a potential sequel. (This is very unlikely to happen, but if it did I could totally call it 'Delirium' hehe) Love you guys and thanks for reading.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Here it is. Quite an important chapter, this one. Our two favourite characters get all the screen time here. I apologise in advance for all the fluff, but a lot of you seem to like it anyway, so meh. And, amindst the aftermath of all the atrocities that our world has seen over the past four or five days, I just wanted to express my condolences for all who were effected by the barbaric acts of terrorism. We will not let them break us. Hope you enjoy this chapter, folks. Love ya  
**

* * *

Ziva tried to keep her mind occupied during the journey to Tony's apartment. If she spent too long in her own head, then she found it overwhelmingly hard to stop her stomach knotting with nerves. She knew they needed to talk, and he probably did too, but that didn't make it any easier for her. The recent events - that had shaken their team almost to point of destruction - had also served as an eye opener. She had come to realise exactly what her heart wanted, and wasn't going to bother trying to hide it any more. He had showed signs that his own desires matched hers, but Ziva's need for confirmation was making her anxious. They'd briefly discussed that fateful night at her apartment all those weeks ago, when they'd slept together in the most blissful explosion of passion imaginable, and they'd even both expressed that they didn't regret it.

And more recently, over the past week or so, they had made a habit out of kissing each other. Most were short, chaste and (dare she say) loving. But it all started - or _re_ -started, she supposed – with that heart-stopping, breath-stealing kiss in the break room after Tony's hallucinogen-fuelled marathon from his apartment to hers. Had Abby not interrupted them, the temperature in the room would have continued to soar. Yes, that particular interaction was a little bit less chaste, she had to admit.

It was only when she and Tony had entered his apartment that she remembered what happened the last time they were here. The book she had been rummaging through his shelves to try and find was lying on the floor. Her mind flashed back to Tony's vague - but heartfelt – confessions. She could still smell his cologne from that day, she could taste his hungry lips, feel his hands as they explored her body. They had even made it the bedroom, she remembers. Half naked and showing no signs of stopping. The kisses they shared then were _definitely_ not chaste. Far from it, in fact. They were both ready for a belated round two, and Ziva was certain it would have happened if it wasn't for the phone call of horror telling them Gibbs' house had been bombed.

Her racing thoughts were interrupted by her partner's voice. ''I'm not sure if I've got anything in the fridge,'' he said as he brushed past her towards the kitchen. ''Your magical culinary skills are really going to get put to the test.''

She smiled to herself in anticipation. ''You are in for a pleasant surprise.''

His head popped back out from the kitchen doorway, and he looked at her warily. ''What? Can you make a dinner-for-two out of a jar of mayonnaise and some old bacon?'' He asked jokingly. ''Because that _would_ be a surprise, but something tells me it wouldn't be pleasant.''

Ziva rolled her eyes semi-affectionately, before gliding across the carpet to where Tony stood. ''I can make anything pleasurable, Tony,'' she teased, leaning up towards his face slightly. She smiled when he visibly swallowed, and she gestured towards the fridge behind him. ''I do not know about your old bacon, but I think I can whack up a nice lasagne.''

He half smiled, half frowned down at her. ''You mean whip up,'' he corrected on impulse.

''Then what does 'whack up' mean?''

He tilted his head in consideration. ''I don't think it means anything,'' he answered honestly. ''Sounds kind of dirty, though,'' he added with a wink, and smiled at her soft chuckle. ''You sure you can make a delicious Italian dish using the contents of my kitchen?'' He asked as he turned around and made his way over to the fridge. ''I know you're good, chef David, but are you that good?''

She smiled to herself again and leaned against the counter as he opened the large, metal door. She thought she heard a small sound of surprise escape his throat, before he twisted his head around to look at her with wide eyes and a lop-sided smile.

''I am that good,'' she replied proudly.

''You went grocery shopping for me?'' He asked, as if it was the cutest thing he'd ever heard.

She tried to play it down, but her cheeks still felt warm as she averted her gaze. ''Well, you have not had any time to run errands over the last week, so I thought it would be a nice gesture,'' she explained shyly. When she met his eyes again, though, the warmth she saw in them was enough to relax her again. ''Besides, your kitchen is always empty and it was driving me insane.''

The affection in his expression never faded as he chuckled. ''The local take-out companies don't complain,'' he joked, before his head disappeared behind the fridge door again. ''I've never seen so much food in here before,'' he expressed excitedly. ''Even the fruit and vegetable shelves are full.'' Ziva felt warmth spread through her chest at his apparent appreciation. ''Jesus, Ziva, you must have spent a fortune.''

''It was the least I could do.''

He reappeared from inside the newly stocked chiller, and his features seemed to soften as he shut the door and made his way over to her. He was reaching into his back pocket when he got within a foot of where she was still leaning against the counter. ''How much do I owe you?'' He asked sincerely after his wallet had appeared.

She frowned and shook her head. ''No, Tony, don't be ridiculous. This was my treat.''

He tilted his head and sent her a look of admonishment. ''Come on, let me give you something for it.''

''Tony, seriously it is-''

''Don't make me insist,'' he cut in, taking a step closer to her.

She ignored the fact that his close proximity was doing weird and wonderful things to her heartbeat. ''Stop trying to be a gentleman,'' she ordered in a much quieter voice. ''This was a token of my gratitude.''

He shook his head. ''You don't have to thank me. For anything,'' he tried to assure her. ''Please, at least let me pay half,'' he insisted, taking twenty dollars from his wallet. ''It doesn't feel right just taking this stuff from you.''

He held out the note expectantly, but his chivalry was beginning to annoy her. ''I am not taking your money, Tony.''

''Take it. Please.''

She took a step towards him and grabbed his wrist, pushing the money back towards him. They were so close now that his bad arm was trapped between them. ''Do not even think about giving me that money, DiNozzo,'' she warned, in a tone far raspier than she intended.

They held each other's gaze for a few heavy seconds, and it took Ziva far too long to realise that Tony's attention had fully switched from the paper in his hand to the woman who was, more or less, in his arms. Her heart was all but exploding in her chest as her eyes subconsciously flicked to his lips and back, a warm tingle spreading through her veins as they did so. His features had long since softened, and he was looking at her like he was completely awestruck. And that was when everything just seemed to click into place. All worries and anxieties were forgotten, because it all seemed so simple. If this feeling – this wonderful, breath-taking feeling – was a sample of what life with Tony would be like, then there was nothing to fear. She wasn't sure, really, because she hadn't felt like this with anyone else before. But she thought this might just have been love.

And it was that revelation than had her stretching up towards him. And the feeling only intensified when she realised he was already meeting her halfway. Their lips came together for a warm, lingering kiss that, honestly, made Ziva's knees weaken. She suddenly felt like a feather floating in the wind, and she was certainly willing to be swept away. His free hand abandoned the money it had been holding and went to the back of her head to hold her in just the right place. She couldn't hold back the deep moan that escaped from her throat, and her eyes closed as she absorbed everything. His scent, his touch, his taste, his everything.

Oh, who was she kidding? This was definitely love.

The kiss felt like it went on forever, yet it felt far too short after he eventually pulled back. He ran his hand through her loose curls and his expression made her bones melt. She resisted the urge to crash her mouth back into his. Her body certainly wanted more of him. Her love-drunk brain suddenly filled itself with images of them clinging to each other as they removed their clothing, piece by piece, before they end up throwing themselves down onto his mattress. It would be oh so easy to give in to their temptations and spend the evening intertwining their souls under the sheets of his bed.

But then she remembered his injuries, as well as the fact that she still wanted to talk to him about…whatever this was. And, honestly, despite the blatant desire she felt in her stomach, just his company would be enough for now. After everything Kaiser had put them through, she was happy to have her partner safe and sound and with her, without having to worry about crazy terrorists trying to drug or kill him. She hadn't realised just how much she treasured Tony until she thought she might lose him. And that, above all else, was her biggest fear. Losing him. Especially when she may have just really found him for the first time.

She ran a hand over his cheek, and found herself almost brought to tears at how much she adored this man. Her loyal, brave and ever-dependable Tony. The man who had travelled across the world for her, put his life on the line for her countless times, and dedicated himself fully to watching out for her. He was as crucial as the air she breathed.

''Thank you,'' she whispered, almost being choked by emotion.

He gently caressed her jaw with his thumb. ''For what?''

She wasn't quite sure how to put it into words, but that was just as well, really, because she was finding it hard to push any speech through her tight throat. ''Everything,'' was all she could say, but it seemed to get the message across. His face melted again, and this time he pulled her back to him, but not for another kiss. This time it was for a warm and comforting embrace – one armed, on his part. She buried her face into his neck let out a heavy sigh, trying her best to swallow down her overwhelming emotion.

He placed a swift kiss to the top of her head. ''I should be thanking you,'' he murmured against her hair. ''For…everything.''

She pulled back from the hug and wiped at the corner of her eye, which was getting dangerously close to leaking. ''Well,'' she sniffed back the threat of any potential sobs. ''You can thank me after I make dinner.'' To her relief, he smiled down at her. ''Provided you enjoy it, of course.''

Tony reached over and brushed a few rogue strands of hair behind her ear. ''Have you ever tasted your cooking, Ziva?'' He asked with a humorous glint in his eye.

''Many times.''

He released her and took a step back towards the fridge, and she immediately missed the warmth of his close presence. ''Then you know for a fact that I'm going to enjoy it,'' he told her, before spinning around and swinging the door back open. ''You want a beer?'' He offered casually. ''You bought the good stuff, too. Or maybe some… Chablis?'' His voice rose in surprise. ''Wow, Ziva, did you get a pay rise or something?''

She was still trying to bring herself back to Earth, but found herself chuckling none the less. ''I told you, it is a treat.''

''Well, you certainly know how to make a guy feel special.''

She felt herself fall back into their usual routine with ease, despite the emotional eruption from a few moments ago. ''Yes, you are definitely special, Tony,'' she teased as she moved to stand beside him. ''That much has always been clear.''

He turned to her with two bottles being held between his fingers. ''I assume you're referring to the fact that I'm a very special agent,'' he said as he offered her a beer, ''and not trying to insult my intellect.''

She smirked at him as she popped the cap off using the table top. ''Denial is not a healthy approach, Tony.''

His smile grew slightly, before falling again. ''I know,'' he assured her. ''It's taken me over eight years to figure that one out.''

Her mouth fell open for another witty response, but she found herself simply gaping at him instead. The weight of those words hit her square in the chest, whether he was implying what she thought he was or not. She had to admit, denial had played a pretty big part in how she labelled her relationship with Tony for far too long. It had taken her years to admit to herself that she had feelings for him, and even longer for her to openly call him her friend. Something told her it would take her a lot less time to tell him that she loved him, especially if he kept turning her to mush with kisses and honest words. She was done with denial.

He popped the cap off his own beer and took a healthy swig. She took his satisfied hum as a sign of approval. ''I needed this.''

She tried to push aside her deep thoughts again, and cleared her throat. ''Nothing like a cold beer after a tough case, yes?'' She said shakily, trying a little too hard to sound casual.

He nodded. ''It does make a nice change from coffee.''

''Yes.''

''And mind altering drugs,'' he added with a tilt of his head.

She smirked, knowing he was trying to make light of it. ''I would not know about that,'' she said in an amused tone. ''But I will take your word for it.''

He smiled behind his beverage, before placing the bottle down on the counter. ''So,'' he began in a determined voice, ''shall we get cracking on this lasagne?''

''Yes,'' she replied after a few seconds, blinking her way out of her Tony-induced trance. ''Yes, let's do that.''

''I could eat a damn horse,'' he exaggerated.

She chuckled softly. ''When was the last time you ate a proper meal?''

He thought about that for a worrying length of time. ''Probably around the same time I had a proper shower,'' he admitted, before wincing. ''I'm surprised you haven't complained about my smell.''

''I did not notice it,'' she admitted honestly.

He grunted in what she suspected was disbelief. ''I could probably do with cleaning myself up a little,'' he theorised. ''A shower and a change of clothes should make me far more tolerable to be around.''

She thought about telling him that she never minded being around him, but decided to go for the more predictable approach. ''It will take far more than that to make you tolerable, Tony.''

He took it in good humour, as he usually did. ''Well, it would be a start, at least,'' he said after a chuckle. ''I'll help you get dinner started and then go cleanse myself.''

He went to open the cupboards, but she reached out and grabbed his hand, effectively turning him towards her. ''Go and wash up,'' she told him softly. ''I have got this.'' She picked up his beer and handed it to him. ''Then put your feet up in front of the TV.'' When he gave her a strange look, she rolled her eyes. ''A warm shower will do you good, Tony. Besides, you should be relaxing, not trying to prepare dinner one handed.''

He sighed as his eyes dropped. ''I want you to relax, too, Ziva.''

''I am relaxed,'' she assured him. ''I always find cooking relaxing. Especially when I'm…'' She took a deep breath to prepare herself for releasing another heart-felt confession. ''…here,'' she finished hesitantly. ''With you.''

His face melted. ''You're always welcome here,'' he said quietly, before lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing her knuckles.

She smiled at him with nothing but affection. ''Is that because I bring you food?''

''Partly,'' he joked, his heart-breaking DiNozzo grin falling slightly. ''But it's mostly because you bring you,'' he added more seriously. ''Nothing brightens this place up more than my Ziva.''

Her breath caught. _His_ Ziva. She tried not to make it too obvious that he was literally making her melt tonight. ''Except your father during Christmas time,'' she reminded him.

''That was bright, sure,'' he conceded. ''But it still didn't feel like home, you know?'' She could just tell his next words would be her downfall. '' _You're_ home to me, Ziva, wherever we are.''

The backs of her eyes burned with tears, and she could see how hard that was for him to confess, and how open he just left himself. His heart was exposed, and the air between them suddenly grew thick. Yes, these words were her downfall, all right. If she had any doubts that he loved her before, then they were all wiped away now. Calling her home was more a less a heartfelt confession of undying love in itself, but she found herself struggling to find suitable words to reciprocate it. Instead, she opted for pulling him into another smouldering kiss. She poured every bit of adoration that she could into it, and prayed that he would receive her message loud and clear.

The face he gave her after they pulled back was all the confirmation she needed. ''You know,'' he began thickly, ''I think these kisses are becoming my new favourite habit.''

She found herself having to sniff back tears again. ''Yes,'' she agreed quietly.

He tilted his head as his face melted again. ''Ziva- ''

She abruptly silenced him with a finger on his lips. She was not ready for any more emotional bombs, yet. She was already struggling to keep herself from pouncing on him like a hungry lioness, and knew any resistance would be futile if he kept showering her with stomach-fluttering compliments. There was no way any meal would be prepared if this continued.

''If you have any intention of eating, you will finish that sentence later,'' she told him in a hush.

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and she was thankful for that. ''Okay,'' he whispered with a nod. ''To be continued.'' He winked at her and turned towards the doorway, his voice brought her attention back from the oven. ''Oh, and Ziva?'' She spun around to regard him and hummed in response. ''I really mean it,'' he said sincerely. ''Thanks, for all this.''

She smiled back at him, perhaps a little shyly. ''You are welcome, Tony.''

And with another bone-melting smile, he made his exit and headed towards the bedroom. Ziva had to concentrate pretty hard as she started preparing their dinner. She couldn't stop running Tony's words over in her head. Everything he said seemed to imply that he wanted exactly what she did. They were ready. They must have been. It was time to take their partnership to the next level. Hell, they'd pretty much already done the tricky parts. They had slept together, they had found a new level of intimacy that already felt wonderfully familiar, and now they were more or less ready to verbally devote themselves to each other. It was really just a case of going with the flow.

She didn't feel quite so nervous anymore, but there was still a huge sense of anticipation.

* * *

Tony had to admit, Ziva was right. The hot shower did wonders. It soothed his previously tense muscles, washed away the grime and dirt he could feel on his skin, and generally made him feel refreshed. He had decided to be naughty and remove his sling before he stepped under the water, which proved to be a lot less painful than he expected. He put it back on after he'd dried himself off, though. He might have felt like he didn't need it, but the doctors did. Ordinarily, that would mean nothing to him. But, in this case, he knew Ziva was going to make sure he followed the doctor's orders properly, and he definitely wouldn't get away with disobeying her.

He left the bathroom and found himself some fresh clothes, and was just acknowledging the growling of his stomach when the smell of something absolutely delicious wafted through the hallway and into his bed room. He really did love Ziva's cooking. He felt his mouth water at the prospect of tucking into a delicious, homemade lasagne. God, he was being spoiled tonight. He was eating food fit for a five star Italian restaurant, spending the evening in the company of the woman he loved, and being kissed by said woman on a regular basis. Things were looking up, especially after a week of nothing but downs.

He swung his bedroom door open and followed his nose. He ended up at the entrance of his kitchen, which was remarkably clean considering it had just been used, but there was no sign of the beautiful chef who had previously blessed the room with her graceful presence. He frowned to himself and headed to the living room. His chest warmed at the sight of Ziva leaning back on his couch with her legs tucked underneath her and a beer in her hand. She looked like she was at home. He could definitely get used to this sight on a regular basis. She turned to him with an intimate little smile that made his stomach flip, but his returning grin was already in place from the moment he entered the room. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She just looked so damn perfect. He would go as far as saying she looked irresistible, in fact.

''Is that better?'' She asked him, and it took him a little while to register her words, or what she was actually referring to.

He nodded in affirmation before he had actually caught up. ''Yeah, much better,'' he answered eventually.

''I told you a shower would help.''

And she was right, as usual. ''I almost feel like a new man,'' he joked as he sat down next to her. They both seemed to subconsciously lean into each other when his backside hit the cushions.

She gave him a shy look that he found absolutely adorable. ''I do not want you to be a new man,'' she said softly as she placed her beer on the coffee table, and his stomach fluttered suddenly. ''I like you the way you are.''

Her words were serious, but he wasn't sure how to react. ''Sling included?''

He was slightly relieved when she snorted in laughter. ''Does it form a major part of your personality?'' She asked in reply.

''I hope not.''

Her smile grew. ''Then it is not essential.''

Her words – or, at least, the implied message behind them – filled him with an immense amount of hope. Not to mention affection. But he tried to play it cool. ''Good,'' he nodded, casting his eyes to the light of the TV, ''because I'm tossing it the moment the doctor says I can.''

''But not a moment sooner,'' she warned sternly.

He glanced back at her. ''Yes, ma'am.'' She sent him a brief glare for his use of that word, but kept her mouth shut on the matter. ''I assume everything went well in the food-making department?'' He asked after a few moments of comfortable silence.

She hummed unintelligibly, and her lack of words made him turn back to her with a small frown. Her eyes widened as she seemed to jump slightly, as if he had abruptly woken her from a day dream. Only, she was staring right at him. More like gazing, really, and it made his skin erupt in goose bumps. After a few seconds of staring silently into each other's eyes, she cleared her throat and blinked a few times.

''Um, yes,'' she finally spoke. ''It is in the oven.''

He narrowed his eyes, but nodded. ''Okay. It smells delicious.''

She still didn't quite look like she was totally with him, and her smile was accompanied by another wordless hum. Something was on her mind, that much was obvious. And, judging by the way she was staring at him, he had a sneaky suspicion that it had something to do with him. Perhaps it was related to all the kissing, hugging and general intimacy they'd exclusively been partaking in recently. Hell, he knew he had spent a lot of time thinking about it, too. And he knew that face. This was Ziva trying to figure out how to put her thoughts into words. It was something he was aware that she struggled with, especially when it came to their relationship.

''You okay?'' He asked gently.

His words didn't seem to startle her this time. Instead, her eyes shifted to her lap self-consciously as she pushed a few loose curls behind her ear. Seriously, she needed to stop being so irresistibly cute if he was going to keep control of himself.

''I was just…thinking,'' she murmured eventually.

 _Thinking._ That could spell danger. ''About anything in particular?''

Again she looked hesitant, but he could tell she would still open up about it. It was just a bit harder for her, and he was okay with that. ''You,'' she whispered, finally meeting his eyes again. He felt his chest tighten at her expression. ''Us.''

He swallowed. ''You know, I've been thinking a lot about us too, recently.'' He squeezed through a tight throat.

Her eyes visibly softened. ''This case brought some very strong feelings to the surface,'' she said quietly. ''For me, at least.''

He was never one to make her feel alone. ''Me too,'' he assured her honestly.

Her gaze bounced from wall to wall for a few seconds. Anywhere but his eyes. ''When everything in my life was threatened, it became clear to me what I treasure most,'' she confessed in a voice barely above a whisper. ''It became clear to me _who_ I treasure the most.'' She seemed to find it within herself to look into his eyes again, and when she did, he could have sworn her eyes were glassy. ''The thought of losing you was unbearable.''

He felt his own eyes begin to grow misty, and had to sniff back the tears. ''I wasn't going to let that happen.''

''I did not know that at the time,'' she said, her expression turning into one of distress at the memory. ''I thought this…this monster was going to take everything away from me.'' He saw her swallow as the level of distress seemed to grow within her. ''My friends, my family,'' she took a deep breath and reached over to rest her hand gently over his, ''my future.''

He hated seeing her get upset like this, even if he knew her worst fears hadn't come true in the end. ''He didn't, Ziva,'' he reminded her softly. ''We got him – _you_ got him, remember?'' He turned his hand over to link their fingers together. ''Everyone you care about is safe now.''

She let out another heavy sigh, before nodding in eventual acceptance. ''I know,'' she said in hushed breath. ''I was just imagining how it would have felt if…if I had lost you without telling you how I really feel.''

He braced himself for some serious soul-bearing, and once again swallowed back his sudden nerves. ''I'm still here,'' he reminded her with a shy smile. ''You can always tell me how you feel, about anything.''

She nodded again. ''I know. It is just hard to…''

When she trailed off, he had her back, like always, ''To find the right words?''

''Yes,'' she whispered with a small smile. ''You are much better at it than me.''

He scoffed. ''I'm really not, believe me,'' he argued. ''I just… speak and hope it all makes sense.''

Ziva's trademark smile turned affectionate again, and it never failed to tug at his heart. ''Every now and then, you do make sense, Tony.''

''Really?''

She nods. ''Really.''

He smirks at her. ''Can I get that in writing?'' He asked teasingly. ''It might be a useful card to play in any future arguments.''

She chuckled warmly, another action that made him want to hug her against his chest and never let go. He decided against it, though, and her face turned serious again after a few seconds. ''So, you just speak and hope it makes sense?'' She repeated quietly.

He nodded. ''You can try it, if you want.'' Her expression suggested she wasn't convinced that was a good idea. ''Ziva,'' he said, in that tone that always seemed to get through to her. It was soft, it was familiar. ''It's just me. There's nothing to be afraid of.'' Her face melted as his words had their desired effect.

''Okay,'' she whispered, before shifting herself slightly so her whole body was facing him.

Again he braced himself for whatever emotional earthquake was about to shake his world. He had a strong, gut feeling that it wouldn't be a devastating one, though. This could be the most important conversation of his life, and he was determined to make sure it went well. His entire universe revolved around this woman, and if she let him, he would be more than willing to spend the rest of his life proving that to her. He just hoped she could get over whatever anxieties she seemed to have about the whole thing.

''You told me that I was home to you,'' she said to him after another few moments of hesitation.

He simply nodded to show his recollection of that confession, feeling like he should keep quiet as she tried to speak from the heart. He would epitomise patience.

''I just want you to know that I feel the same way, Tony,'' she expressed sincerely, her soft expression almost crumbling. ''I am only ever at home when I'm with you. And it took me a while to realise that.'' He squeezed her hand in support and solidarity, letting her know he was with her every step of the way. Her smile let him know she appreciated it. ''When I look to the future, I can only see it being a happy one if you are there,'' she continued. ''You are more than my partner, and more than my best friend.'' She held his gaze and showed no sign of cowering away. ''And recently, I feel like we have made the next step.''

Her words hit home, and he couldn't agree with her more. ''I think so.''

She smiled briefly. ''I want to spend my life with you, Tony, and not just at NCIS.'' She raised their joined hands kissed his knuckles. ''I do not know if I deserve you, but I certainly want to have the chance to try and make you happy.''

''You do make me happy,'' he assured her as quickly, and honestly, as he could.

She closed her eyes and took another calming breath. ''I do not know what your feelings are on the matter, but your recent actions – and words – suggest that- '' He didn't let her finish her sentence. Instead, he leaned over and silenced her with a deep, drugging kiss that he hoped would eradicate any doubts she might have had on his desires. ''Oh,'' she whispered after he pulled back, and he smiled at the way her mouth had fallen open.

''What does that action suggest?'' He dared to ask.

She smiled at him again. ''That I am lucky.''

He felt his insides liquefy for approximately the millionth time in her presence. ''If you're offering me a future with you, then I'm definitely the lucky one, Ziva.''

Her watery smile was full of love. ''So, did that all make sense?''

''Oh, yeah,'' he said thickly. ''You nailed it.''

She let out a teary chuckle. ''Good.''

He released her hand, only to lift his to her face and run it through her soft curls. ''I can't guarantee you a happy future, Ziva,'' he told her in a tiny voice. ''It's impossible to know what's going to happen. But I can promise you – right here, right now – that I will give everything I have to this,'' he vowed. ''To us.''

Her face melted under his palm. ''So will I.''

''I want to spend every day showing you how much you mean to me,'' he told her.

She beamed back at him. ''We are going to do this?''

He nodded, as sure as ever. ''Yeah. No more wasting time, life's too damn short.''

Without the need for any further words, she pulled him into another kiss, before burying her face into his shoulder with a tight hug. Needless to say, he returned the embrace without any hesitation, and held her as close as he could for what felt like minutes. He didn't care, though. He would happily hold her forever. He ran his hand up and down her back as he soaked up her scent. He was right, after all. That was the most important conversation of his life, because he had just devoted the rest of it to the woman he loved. It was probably the best moment of his life, too, but he knew this woman would find countless ways to beat it in the future.

After a few more moments, she pulled back from the hug and gave him a look that just about had him under a spell. ''Can I stay here tonight?'' She asked softly. ''My apartment is still a crime scene,'' she added as an explanation.

He was nodding before she even had to explain herself, though. ''You can stay as long as you like,'' he told her sincerely. ''I wasn't kidding about the whole _you're always welcome_ thing.''

She kissed his cheek. ''And I wasn't kidding about the whole _spending my life with you_ thing.''

He smirked. ''Good. Then everybody's happy.''

''Yes,'' she agreed.

Their gazes locked again, and it didn't take long for him to get lost in her eyes. In truth, it never did, but this time it felt more significant. It felt like these were the deep, brown eyes he would spend an eternity looking into. Within the depths of these beautiful orbs laid everything he would ever fight for, everything he would ever strive for, everything he would ever _live_ for. It was that overwhelming feeling that had him crashing his lips against hers again, this time with much more desire and hunger. The way she returned the kiss suggested she was happy to get lost in the moment, too. They ran their hands over each other – (well, one hand in Tony's case) – and their movements became more and more lustful as they more or less devoured each other.

He was already flushed and breathless when he heard the oven timer go off, and decided to groan at it in hopes of shutting it up. It didn't work, naturally, and Ziva pulled away from him with a heaving chest and a small frown. ''The dinner,'' she said, as if she had completely forgotten about it.

Tony had too, but his rumbling stomach didn't seem to have been so forgetful. ''That was very rude of it,'' he criticized.

She looked back at him and chuckled. ''I hope you are hungry, Agent DiNozzo.''

''I'm always hungry.''

She reached up and patted his cheek affectionately. ''I have the solution,'' she said as she got to her feet, pulling at his hand to follow suit. ''If you would like to join me in the kitchen.''

He allowed himself to be pulled into an upright position as well. ''It would be my pleasure,'' he returned politely.

She smiled at him, before turning and leading him towards the source of the delicious smell that was currently engulfing his apartment. He grinned at her back as they walked, not even bothering to try and hide how giddy he felt. This was a terrible week in so many aspects of his life, but it had ended in the best way possible. His apartment felt alive and welcoming when Ziva was in it, and now she would be here a lot more often. The darkness left behind by Kaiser was still present, and still lingering, but this would definitely help to fight it.

Tony could see the future, and it looked bright.

* * *

 **I hope that was a powerful enough chapter. If you're not a big fan of sap, then sorry. Although, the earlier chapters were full of it, so you had time to prepare yourself hehe. There will be one more chapter to wrap things up, and don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Fornell (he's fine btw). Hope you enjoyed this, and please stay tuned for the Delirious finale, which will prbably be a fairly short chapter. Then it will be on to Balance, I promise. Cheers guys**


	15. Chapter 15

**The end is here. And, I know, two updates in two days! Madness! Thank you for joining me on this silly - but hopefully fun - journey. This is more of a team Gibbs chapter than a T/Z one, but the last chapter should have covered all the love stuff (I hope). Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Two weeks had passed since the bombing of Gibbs' house. And Ziva had to admit, she felt guilty that she had thoroughly enjoyed the majority of that time. While her boss had been working hard to try and rebuild the house that meant so much to him, she had been spending time with Tony. Given the nature of the path they'd both decided to go down, spending time together consisted mostly of being in each other's company for entire days and evenings. In fact, Ziva had more or less lived at Tony's apartment for the last week. They hadn't done anything too special, just a nice dinner here, and a quiet movie night there, but it was all so easy. And magical, really.

That was why she felt bad as she and Tony pulled up outside Gibbs' on a relatively warm afternoon. The debris had been cleared and the foundations had already been laid. The boss man had been busy, and had a small team of workers helping him, so the house was actually coming along rather nicely. Considering the state Kaiser had left it in, it was genuinely comforting to see it slowing rising again, piece by piece.

As they both stepped out of the car, Ziva felt another wave of guilt, only this time it wasn't about her blissful activities with Tony. No, this time it was because she felt as though the upcoming discussion with Gibbs should have happened sooner. They could see the man in question, at the far side of the plot, sawing and measuring and sanding. It was a familiar sight, although it was strange to see it happening out in the open. One of his workers today – and on most days, in fact -, Fornell, appeared from inside the mostly intact rear end of the building with a bottle of scotch and two glasses. Gibbs accepted the drink with a small nod of appreciation.

Ziva turned to Tony and met his eyes. She just needed one last go-ahead. If they weren't going to go through with this, then now was the time to decide that. But her partner's eyes told her all she needed to know, even before he reached out and squeezed the ends of her fingers in a show of support. Yes, they were doing this. And they were in it together, like always. She gave him a brief smile and span around to approach their leader, and her nerves were at least half suppressed by the presence of Tony at her shoulder. But not fully.

They reached the chosen work area of Gibbs, and Ziva wasn't too surprised when he didn't even look up at them. He probably knew they were here before they even turned down his street. It was actually Fornell who turned to them with a small smile of greeting. His face, though still slightly bruised and cut, looked far better than it had when he was in the hospital. He seemed to have bounced back from the whole Kaiser debacle as well as any of them had.

''Looks like you've got a few more volunteers, Jethro,'' he said after a small sip of his Bourbon.

Gibbs still didn't look up, he seemed more interested in his tape measure and another large wooden beam. ''That's not why they're here,'' he replied calmly.

Ziva almost smiled. _Typical._ ''We wanted to talk to you,'' she informed him eventually.

Gibbs nodded slightly. ''Both of you?''

''Yes,'' she said, as confidently as she could.

Their boss finally stood up fully and looked at them both. At first, it felt like they were being inspected, but after a few seconds, a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. ''Uh-huh,'' he said knowingly, before his gaze landed back on Tony. ''You get that drill I wanted?''

Tony seemed a little bit surprised by the casual nature of the question, but his frown quickly disappeared. ''Um, yeah,'' he stuttered. ''It's in the trunk.'' He looked at Ziva quickly, who was trying her best not to roll her eyes. ''I, uh, got that paint you wanted, too. I probably should have brought it over,'' Gibbs narrowed his eyes. ''I'm going to bring it over,'' Tony concluded, pointing over his shoulder to where he'd parked his car.

''I'll help,'' Fornell offered, placing his glass down on the small work bench next to him and following Tony back towards the street.

While the others were briefly absent, Ziva walked over to the pile of wooden girders and ran her hand over one of them. There were no knots in the material, unlike her stomach. She could feel Gibbs' eyes on her, and knew she couldn't avoid the 'talk' that she and Tony had come here for. Well, she could – she was doing so right then, even – but not forever. She turned back to her boss and let out a deep breath.

She knew he was just going to silently wait until she spoke, but she was determined to hold back on the relationship stuff until Tony was with her. ''I spoke to Malachi's wife a few days ago,'' she said softly, knowing Gibbs would approve of _that_ activity, at least. She got confirmation of that when he nodded agreeably. ''I gave my condolences, and told them that the people responsible had been brought to justice.''

Gibbs took another swig of Bourbon. ''How'd she take it?''

She felt a wave of sympathy crash over her. ''She was relieved about that, but still devastated about Malachi.''

''It'll take time,'' he said gently.

She nodded. ''Yes,'' she agreed, running a nervous hand through her hair. ''Has Vance heard anything from Mossad?''

His expression suggested he wasn't supposed to release too much information to anyone. Not officially, anyway. ''They found the scientist,'' he told her eventually. ''He was still technically working for the Russians, but Kaiser had him under duress.'' He tilted his head. ''Or so he claimed.''

She gave him a small smile. ''I am guessing the politics don't interest you.''

''Nope.''

Her smile grew slightly. ''But we are safe.''

''All that matters,'' he said simply.

The dreaded silence was back, and Ziva found herself desperately searching for a way to keep both their minds occupied. Fortunately, the arrival of McGee from around the back of the house spared her from further suffering. He looked like he'd been working hard on something, if the sweat on his forehead was anything to go by. His look of marginal distress was replaced by a smile of greeting when he saw her.

''Hey, Ziva,'' he said politely.

''Hi.''

He wiped at his greasy brow with his forearm. ''You come to help with all the manual labour?''

Ziva smiled, taking in his hard hat and ragged labourer's clothes. ''It looks as though you have that covered, McGee,'' she teased.

He scoffed. ''I wish,'' he replied flatly, before turning to Gibbs. ''Actually, boss, I need your help with something.''

''I told you, McGee, blunt the nails before you hammer them,'' Gibbs told him sternly. ''That'll stop the wood splitting.''

McGee shook his head. ''Um, no. It's a different problem this time.''

Gibbs grunted. ''Take a break,'' her ordered. ''I'll help you in a minute.''

The younger man puffed out his cheeks in relief. ''Thank god,'' he exclaimed. ''My back's killing me.''

''I never asked you to help,'' Gibbs reminded him.

McGee groaned as he started stretching his back. ''You never have to, boss,'' he squeezed out.

Again, Ziva felt a little guilty for not coming by more often to help with this house-building project. Sure, both she and Tony had come by sporadically over the course of all the labouring, but neither of them had put in the effort that McGee and Gibbs seemed to. Granted, she was never good at DIY, but still. It would be a show of support and solidarity that Gibbs definitely needed after the last case – even if he'd never admit to it. Before any further discussion could take place, Tony and Fornell reappeared, dumped what they were carrying, and joined the other three by Gibbs's workbench. Tony shot McGee a wide grin, clearly enjoying the sight of his probie dressed like a builder. He walked over and patted him on the shoulder.

''Look at McGee working hard,'' he said proudly. ''I would say you're turning into a Mini-Gibbs, but he would never dress like that.''

McGee rolled his eyes. ''I needed to find something productive to do,'' he answered. ''Vance gave us too much time off, and it's boring sitting around at home.''

Tony frowned. ''Really? I've enjoyed it.''

''Of course you have,'' McGee said tiredly.

Fornell retrieved his glass of whiskey again, and regarded them with a serious expression. ''Well, I just want to say how great it was to see you all at the memorial service last week,'' he said honestly. ''I don't say things like this much, but it meant a lot.''

Ziva made a sympathetic face as she nodded politely. Yes, they had all attended the service for all the FBI and NCIS agents that had been killed in the line of duty by Kaiser and his men. It was a sad occasion, and one that had been very hard to sit through. There were far too many family members whose lives had been turned upside down, and it was all because of a conflict that their deceased loved ones had nothing to do with. They were doing their jobs, bravely and loyally, but they had been taken far too young. And, as relieved as Ziva was that none of her closest friends were seriously harmed, she still felt awful for all the families.

Tony's face had softened to an expression that was far more sincere at Fornell's words. ''It was the least we could do, Tobias.''

McGee nodded in agreement. ''Yeah,'' he said gently. ''They were good people, and they didn't deserve what happened to them.''

Fornell nodded in gratitude. ''I'm just glad we stopped that bastard before any more innocent people were killed,'' he expressed in a sorrowful tone. ''I don't think I could have made one more visit to a grieving loved one.''

Ziva's gut twisted at the thought of what he must have gone through in the aftermath of all the chaos. She wasn't at all surprised that Fornell went around and visited the victims' loved ones in person, it was exactly the sort of thing he'd do, but it must have been absolute torture for the poor man. He took the loss of his agents just as seriously as Gibbs did, and he lost a lot at the hands of Kaiser's men. Too many.

''Hardest part of the job,'' Gibbs said sympathetically.

''Yeah,'' Tobias agreed on a sigh.

After a few seconds of heavy silence, Gibbs gestured to Tim. ''McGee was about to take a break,'' he told Fornell. ''Why don't you two grab some lunch. Apparently these two need to talk to me.''

Tobias considered that for a few moments. ''I feel like something colder,'' he said. ''You got any beer?'' He asked Gibbs, who simply nodded in reply. Satisfied, Fornell turned to McGee. ''You feel like a beer?''

McGee was busy stretching his back again. ''Oh, god yes.''

Fornell chuckled. ''Okay, let's go and let these guys…talk,'' he suggested with a quick rise and fall of his eyebrows.

As the two men disappeared through the back door, Ziva shot a brief glance at Tony, who knew exactly what she was thinking, as usual. He gave her a wink that simultaneously calmed her nerves and made her heart skip a beat. It was that simple – yet oh, so sweet – effect that he had over her. That effect that had led to all this, and that had led to this upcoming conversation. They hadn't said to it each other yet, but they were in love. It was so clear to them that she half expected Gibbs to already know it, too.

Tony joined her side, and that was enough to fully prepare her for this. It was him who spoke up first. ''Boss, you know how much we respect you,'' he started, sounding suitably diplomatic. ''You've taught us both so much, and we have you to thank for everything we have in our careers.''

Gibbs simply narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but kept quiet.

Ziva decided she needed to back her partner up. ''Recently, certain feelings have been brought to the surface,'' she explained. ''For both Tony and I.''

Their boss simply tilted his head.

''I think you know what we're talking about, boss,'' Tony added simply.

In case they weren't being clear enough, Ziva slid her hand into Tony's and shot him a brief, but affectionate, smile. She saw nothing but adoration in his eyes, and was feeling even more confident by the time she turned back to look at Gibbs. His eyes travelled from their faces to their joined hands, and back. His expression showed no signs of emotion - or even interest, really. Hell, he didn't even look shocked. Was that a good thing? Ziva wasn't sure what it meant, if she was honest.

''We wanted to both tell you in person,'' she told him.

Tony's hand tightened around hers. ''Yeah,'' he confirmed. ''Mainly because you're less likely to get mad if Ziva's here,' he said as lightly as he could. ''And she provides some protection against head slapping,'' he added unnecessarily. ''Or death by chisel.''

''Shut up, DiNozzo,'' Gibbs ordered.

''Sorry.''

Gibbs sighed, and switched his gaze between them with a calm expression. ''Do you make each other happy?''

It wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting, but it certainly didn't strike her as a bad one. She looked up at Tony, who was already looking her way with a face that made her chest warm. She thought back to the nights they'd spent together over the last couple of weeks. To all the time they'd spent with each other. It was arguably the happiest she'd ever felt, even given the events leading up to it. She knew her answer to Gibbs' question, even before Tony gave his.

''Yeah,'' he answered softly. ''I know I'm happy, anyway.''

Ziva smiled at him and nodded. ''We are both happy.''

When they turned back to Gibbs, he remained silent for a few more seconds, before nodding in what looked like acceptance. ''All right,'' he said eventually. ''As long as that continues, I don't see a problem.''

Ziva looked back to Tony with a surprise. ''Are you sure?'' Her partner asked Gibbs.

''Yep,'' Gibbs shrugged. ''Besides, I know you two. Your minds are made up,'' he briefly smiled with what looked like pride. ''You're not going to let anyone stand in your way. And I don't want to.''

Ziva felt an overwhelming surge of relief, and gratitude for her boss and father figure. ''Thank you, Gibbs.''

Tony sounded slightly emotional when he spoke, too. ''I could hug you right now, boss.''

Gibbs sent him a stern look. ''Don't.''

''Okay.''

Ziva swallowed back the threat of tears. ''How can we ever thank you.''

Gibbs looked confused. ''For what?''

''Everything you have done for us,'' she elaborated thickly.

He rolled his eyes dismissively. ''Oh, jeez, Ziva,'' he said, as if she was being ridiculous. ''You never have to thank me.''

She let out a tired sigh in frustration, gesturing back to Tony. ''Sometimes I wonder if you two are actually related.'' They both made a face that suggested neither of them were a big fan of that idea. They also looked confused, so she decided to explain what she meant. ''You both refuse to accept gratitude.''

Gibbs shrugged, and Tony puffed out his chest proudly. ''We're just doing our jobs,'' they replied in unison, before looking at each other in surprise.

''See what I mean?'' She asked.

They both looked at each other again in consideration. ''No,'' they replied again, at the exact same time.

Her eyes widened in exasperation. ''Seriously, it is freaking me out.''

Tony's grin suggested that one had been on purpose, and when she looked back to their boss, the amusement shining in his blues eyes confirmed it. _These people_ she thought to herself. Tony gave her hand a brief squeeze, though, effectively reassuring her that he did, in fact, have her back. His smile fell, and he gave Gibbs are far more serious look. ''She's right, though, boss,'' he said sincerely. ''How can we thank you?''

Gibbs narrowed his eyes slightly as he considered the question. At first, it seemed as though he may have been irritated, but then he let out a small sigh and turned around to retrieve a few items from the bench. Ziva used the time that took to look back up at Tony, who had a puzzled frown on his face. By the time she had turned back to Gibbs, he was standing right in front of them. In his left hand was a hammer, and in his right hand was a box of nails. He offered them the items with an expectant look, and raised a single eyebrow when they hesitated.

''All right,'' Tony said on an exhale. ''Deal.'' He reached out and took the hammer, before turning to Ziva and waggling his eyebrows. ''Feel like some DIY, _Mon Ziva_?''

She took the box of nails from her boss with a smirk. ''I had nothing planned,'' she replied, shrugging one shoulder.

Tony gave her another heart-stopping smile before spinning the hammer around in his hand. ''I'm pretty handy with a hammer, you know,'' he said proudly. ''I often get mistaken for Thor, the god of thunder.''

She snorted. ''He is far more muscular, Tony.''

He gave her a look of mock-offence. ''Don't pretend like you've seen the movie.''

''You made me watch a Marvel marathon at the weekend,'' she reminded him.

He tilted his head. ''Oh yeah.''

''You had fallen asleep after Iron Man 2.''

He hummed in mild surprise. Before any further movie-related discussion could take place, a red hot-rod pulled up on the roadside, with two familiar faces emerging from behind the windows. Abby and Ducky stepped out of the car and made their way over to Gibbs and the happy couple. Abby waved enthusiastically from about ten feet away and Ducky gave them all a polite nod. Ziva smiled at the appearance of another two close friends, and returned Abby's tight embrace when it inevitably came.

''It's so good to see you guys!'' Abby exclaimed excitedly.

Ziva frowned at her when they'd separated. ''We saw you two days ago, Abby.''

Tony let out a loud grunt as Abby flung herself at him. ''Yeah,'' he agreed with a groan. ''And I brought you lunch yesterday.''

Abby pulled back from the hug with a pout. ''I know, I just miss having you guys at work.''

''We'll be back soon,'' Gibbs assured her.

She nodded. ''I know.''

Tony turned to Ducky with an amused smile. ''You going to help with the house-building, Duckman?''

The old Brit chuckled. ''Does that surprise you, Anthony?''

''Honestly? No.''

Ducky's smile grew. ''Experience is vital when conducting a task such as this, my young friend.'' He put his arm around Tony's back and started leading him away towards the front of the house. ''Did I ever tell you about the time me and my cousin built our own boathouse?''

As Ducky's trademark storytelling tone grew more distant, Tony turned back to Ziva with wide eyes and a wince. She simply smiled and raised her eyebrows at him, before tossing him the box of nails. He caught it one handed and shot her a proud look. _Behave yourself_ she told him, using nothing but her eyes. He winked back at her, making her stomach flip, and turned back towards the area where a new porch was already under construction. She watched him with a contended sigh, and briefly acknowledged the fact that Abby had shared a few words with Gibbs before entering the back of the house.

She turned back to where Gibbs stood, only he was far closer than before. He gave her a soft expression, and an affectionate smile, before pulling her into a one handed hug and kissing her head. ''You deserve to be happy, Ziva,'' he whispered, making her smile in thanks. ''I'm proud of both of you, never doubt that.''

She felt tears burn the backs of her eyes. ''Thank you,'' she replied in a sincere hush.

''Make sure you keep him in line,'' he warned, but with no real severity.

She chuckled warmly. ''I will try.''

He nodded in approval, his smile never falling. ''Come help me with this, will you,'' he said, gesturing to his work bench.

She wiped at the corner of her eye as he walked away. ''Of course.''

And with that, all anxieties and fears seemed to have disappeared. In truth, she knew Gibbs wouldn't be mad about her relationship with Tony, but she had still felt a little bit sceptical about the idea of bringing it out into the open in front of their co-workers. But, really, were they ever not going to accept it? This NCIS team were a family, and they supported each other through anything. The fact that they were all here, helping Gibbs to rebuild his home, was a perfect example of that. They would all give their lives for each other, and they all wanted to help each other find happiness. Fortunately for her, Tony made her happier than she ever thought possible.

Terrorists and bombs would never break this family apart.

* * *

 **The end. I know some of you didn't want it to end, but I can't begin to explain how good it feels to have it finished. Thank you all so much for reading this crazy thing. The reviews have been great, for motivation as well as satisfaction. This will obviously not be the last story I post. You will see much more of MCmondo, don't worry. If I ever try and do another long (ish) story again, then I'll probably try and finish it before publishing. My updates for this story were far too inconsistent. Love you guys, and please keep an eye out for my work in the future. xx**


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